Smutiversity
by SmutSisters
Summary: Have you ever tried to write a good lemon? It's not that easy. Plus, reading bad lemons kind of kills the horniness. So, we decided we need to practice our smut. And what better way is there, than to write a fic about writing smut? Rated M for... a lot.
1. Read it Out Loud

_**This is just for fun. We all wish we owned Edward and the gang; sadly, they belong to SM and we just borrow them to go to Smutiversity with.**_

**_Thanks to vasweetpea for your beta services, and a huge thank you to TaraSueMe, HunterHunting and tby789 for allowing us to mention them in this weird little fic._**

* * *

_**Read it. Out loud. **__By __SwedenSara_

Here's the thing, I need to learn how to write smut. I suck at smut. My smut is rated PG-13 , that's how sucky I am. So, yeah, I need to learn some stuff, and that's why I enrolled to the course "Sex in fiction: how to write, and what to avoid". Thankfully, I was accepted, and now I go to university again. No, wait, I don't. I go to _Smutiversity_. Hah!

For our first class we are told to bring an excerpt of our own writing, the smutty parts. I'm kind of embarrassed about that, because as I said, my smut is so not smutty that you can probably read it with your kids around. After a few read-throughs, I decide on a part from chapter 11 of my story, the smuttiest part I can think of. And that part doesn't even contain actual sexual intercourse; it's basically just Edward watching porn and playing the skinflute in the middle of the night. Writing that was like giving birth to a lizard; it wasn't entirely pleasurable doing it, and I can't even bring myself to love the damn thing afterwards. I may feel some affection towards it because at least it is mine, but I don't think it's that great, and to be honest, my "smut-baby" is kind of ugly.

To say I'm nervous as I head to the first class is an understatement. I don't have butterflies in my belly, I have freaking dragonflies on acid in there. I peek inside the door and see a room full of ladies, of a wide variety of ages. Some of them look too young to even know what smut is, and some too old to even care. There is an empty seat between two ladies, a young girl around twenty years old, and a slightly older one - probably twice her age, which leaves me between them age-wise as well. Both have a file of printed papers in front of them, and I realize it's probably their stories. That's also when I realize my own mistake – I forgot the damned smut-excerpt, I left it at home in my haste and nervousness. Fuck it. Well, at least I don't have to embarrass myself by reading my ugly smut lizard out loud.

As I sit down I listen to women talking around me, I notice the subject of most of the conversations is the teacher on this course. Apparently the Smut Teacher is a he, and he is hot, judging by the _ooohs _and _aaaahs_ from those who have seen his picture on the website. That would explain the predominance of women in this room. I didn't even bother to check who was lecturing on this course. To be honest, I assumed it would be a woman, since most fan fiction writers I know about are female. I guess I was wrong.

"Hi, I'm Jill. Have you heard about this teacher everyone seems to be talking about?"

The lady on my left leans in close to me. She has a huge pile of books and papers on her desk, the one on top being Pride and Prejudice. A Jane Austen fan, it seems. I probably shouldn't tell her that I've read nothing by Austen. Some people consider that an actual crime and I'm not sure about this lady's opinion on that yet. I've seen the movies, though, but I'm not sure that counts.

Jane Austen-lady looks like she is in her forties, with brown hair, a pretty face and a winning smile. She appears to be slightly taller than me, and has a curvy figure. Her eyes are unusual: one brown and one blue, which is awesomely cool. I have no special features like that – I used to have teeth like a vampire, but now I have braces. I don't think braces on a 30-year old woman qualify as cool, though, especially not since they are accompanied by a pair of glasses. Imagine that, glasses and braces, the nightmare of every teenager. Thank god I'm a grown-up, and don't have to worry about my looks all the time. As in "not all the time, but certainly sometimes", like when the teacher you imagined would be a middle-aged woman turns out to be a fairly young and hot male.

I turn to the lady, Jill, and answer.

"Nope, but I'm intrigued, to say the least. He seems to be quite popular. I'm Sara by the way."

"He's more than popular. Just wait and see, ladies. You're in for a treat."

The tall, dark-haired girl on my right chimes in, taking out the earphones of her iPod, and the music she was listening to is blaring through them. I recognize the sound of The Strokes. The black eyeliner around her dark blue eyes and the pack of cigarettes on her desk seems to fit in well with that kind of music. When she speaks I notice she has an Australian accent, which means I'm not the only non-American here. Oh, come to think of it, Jill sounded English. We are quite international, it seems.

"You know him? Um, sorry, I didn't catch your name?" She says.

I listen closely as my two new classmates introduce themselves. I generally suck at names, but I have a feeling these two have names worth remembering.

"I'm Netra," said the younger woman, "writer of angst, angst and more angst. I need a break. I want my writing to get more down and dirty."

She looks down and fiddles with her pack of cigarettes. It seems like she is in terrible need of a smoke, and she looks a bit tired, like she's been out partying the entire night. If that's the case, I'm actually jealous. I bet her smut-writing is good as fuck as well, pun totally intended. I shake off the feeling of having an extremely boring life, and turn to her.

"Well, I'm the only writer I know whose smut is practically smut-free. Apart from Stephanie Meyer, of course." I feel kind of embarrassed admitting it.

Jill smiles at me, and pats me on the hand with sympathy.

"Well, it could be worse. I've been doing beta work, and if I have to read about another _dripping core,_ I think I might go mad! I need inspiration."

I like these girl already, I think we're going to have fun. Our conversations go from dripping cores to the various smuts out there, and we discover we share a lot of common favourites. The buzzing voices in the room make us talk louder to be able to hear each other. The topic changes, to things you've learned from reading smut, and I laugh loudly as I say:

"Well, if it weren't for smutty fan fiction I would never know the benefits of being properly tied up. Thank you for that education, TaraSueMe!"

In the middle of my sentence I notice that it is suddenly very quiet, and that the only voice being heard is – that's right – mine. As I turn around I realize the reason for the silence. The Smut Teacher just came. Correction: the Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher just arrived. I would love to be able to say that he _came_, but sadly I can't. The chances of me seeing him coming in that sense of the word are slim to none, and even that is an understatement. I'd say the chances are exactly none. Slim to none would mean that there actually is a chance, and thinking that is just ridiculous.

Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher is eyeing me, with his brow raised and a smirk on his lips, and I feel the burning blush spread over my face. My blush is not the cute kind with rosy cheeks. It is more like red blotches scattered over my face and neck. If I was naked you would see those blotches extending all the way down my chest as well. Thank god I didn't choose a top with a cleavage today, because showing off that flaming red bosom would have been too much humiliation in one day even for me.

"I'm sorry" I croak. "I didn't see you coming."

"Well, I did come, and if you are done discussing the pros and cons of being tied up during sex, I'd like to begin this class."

_Holy shit, does he have to talk about coming? I can't concentrate when the only thing in my mind is his cum-face. I need to refocus on the issue here. I'm here to write smut. I wonder what he looks like… I bet he's glorious. Oh no, I didn't just think that. Wow, I really know how to make things worse than they already are. What is wrong with me!  
_  
Sexy Smut Teacher is talking to the class, explaining the curriculum, and answering questions. I don't hear one word of it, because I'm eye-fucking him from my seat in the back. He has this really sexy dishevelled hair going, like he just got out of bed, or better, like he was just being screwed on a bed. He is tall and lean, which I really enjoy because I don't like buff guys. The focus on getting that great body makes well-built men seem so self-absorbed. His eyes are blue with a hint of grey in them, his brows are marked but nicely formed, and his jaw – oh god, his jaw – has the most perfect angle hiding under a light stubble. In fact, he bears a striking resemblance to a certain young British actor, known from a movie franchise involving vampires. I shift in my chair, starting to feel a tiny bit uncomfortable with the growing throbbing in my crotch.

I lean towards Netra, because I've been so preoccupied with undressing Smut Teacher that I didn't even catch his name.

"Hey Netra, what's his name? I kind of lost focus for a while."

"You don't say? I think maybe you lost more than focus, like your chin maybe, or some brain cells?" She snickers at me.

"Oh, shut up. Did you already know he'd be this gorgeous?"

"Actually, a friend of mine took this course last year. Her smut improved, I guess she got inspired…"

I giggle. I can totally see how he could be an inspiration to smut writing. He's inspiring me right now, as a matter of fact… _Oh fuck, not again. Back to subject._

"So, his name? Tell me!"

"Alright. This is actually hilarious, considering the type of fic we write. His name is…" She quiets, making a theatrical pause.

"Edward. Professor Edward Hawkins."

No shit! Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher is called Edward. This is just too good to be true. I raise my eyes to witness his holy hotness as he speaks again.

"Now, I gave you all instructions to bring an excerpt of your writing for our first class. This will be a good way for us to get to know each other, and it will also be the subject for our first seminar. I'd like to hear some of you read your excerpts, in order to give you a hint on what I'd like you all to discuss later. Let me see… Is anybody with the penname "SwedenSara" here?"

I freeze in my seat, unable to utter a word. He is going to make me read my ugly smut, out loud. Oh wait, he can't. I didn't bring my smut. He is going to find out that I forgot. This is a great way to introduce myself to Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher Edward. Not.

"She is not here? No SwedenSara?"

"She is right here!" Jill smiles and points at me. _Gee, thanks, hon!_

"Oh. It's you. Well, I know for a fact that you are able to speak, because I clearly heard you when I entered this room. So, can you please use that voice and read your excerpt?"

"Um… Actually, I don't have an excerpt. I mean I had one, but I kind of forgot it at home, and besides, it isn't smutty anyway. I don't know how to write smut, I mean, that's what I'm supposed to learn here, right? So, I can't read an excerpt. Sorry." Holy shit, is there a possibility that this rambling didn't just fall out of my mouth right now? Nope, the malicious faces in this room combined with Edwards raised eye brow pretty much proves that it did.

"Okay then, I'll have to talk to you about this after class. Is there anybody here who remembered to bring their story?"

The entire room is filled with raised hands, and I can't help but scoff at these ladies trying to impress Professor McSmutty. I snort in a very unladylike way at my newfound nickname for Fuck-Hot Smut Teacher, and of course he notices. The smirk on his face is not subtle at all.

Netra raises her hand, and is the next one to read her story. She introduces it briefly, it's a story called White Lies, in which a young and naive Bella meets somewhat older and secretly married Edward. She walks to the front of the class, and starts to read aloud.

"_With another glance into my eyes, and an evil little smirk on her face, Bella pulled down my boxers, my cock less than two inches from her face. I could actually feel her breath on me, and I was about to start begging when she slowly opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of my dick. I nearly fainted on the spot, the sight was absolutely fucking magnificent._

_A low "fuck" escaped me as I watched her take my length in her mouth, and she wrapped her hand around the part that she couldn't fit. She had told me in the past that she didn't really like giving blow jobs, because she didn't really know what she was doing, but she was obviously a complete and utter fucking natural, because this was amazing. She broke eye contact as she slid her mouth back up, her hand following closely behind, and then back down. She set such a slow pace, that although I could feel it gradually increasing, it was completely agonising in the most delicious way._

_I was grunting and groaning like a wild fucking animal, unable to contain myself against the feelings that she was giving me. One of my hands tangled into the hair at the back of my head, pulling and tugging on it as a means of keeping my head in the game, and the other rested at my side. I felt one of Bella's fingers brush it and so took her hand in mine, knotting our fingers together and hoping that I didn't squeeze it too hard or anything stupid like that because I wasn't capable of thought._

_Her speed started increasing more noticeably now, and my hand tightened in my hair to an almost painful extent, which I barely noticed. At that point, I think Rosalie could have walked straight into the room and I wouldn't have even realized, I was that transfixed. I directed my gaze back to Bella, who was focused on her task, her eyes not on me. However, I could still see her mouth moving up and down, and I realized in that moment whoever said that men were visual creatures was completely accurate, because it was quite possibly the hottest thing I had ever seen, and was driving me absolutely mental._

_"Princess, fuck… I'm gonna - fuck," was all that I was able to enunciate, so I forced myself to get my head together and tell her that I was going to come, because I was nowhere near enough of a douche bag to just spring that shit on someone, especially not Bella. As if she could read my mind, or understand my nonsensical ramblings, she moved even faster, her mouth tightening infinitesimally more and making my eyes roll back into my head.  
A deep, almost sinister groan left my mouth as I felt the stirring in my stomach that preceded what I knew was going to be a huge orgasm. As if she knew, her hand moved to rest on the exact spot where the feeling was originating, the warmth of her little hand exacerbating the spreading of it through my body._

_"Bella," I tried again, my voice a throaty rumble, "fuck princess, I'm gonna come, you have to-"_

_Although I couldn't finish the sentence, it was pretty damn obvious what I meant, and yet, she didn't move, she tightened her mouth even more and I felt her teeth graze my cock, sending me over the edge. With a ragged moan, I released into her mouth, only to feel her throat muscles move as she swallowed it down without a second's hesitation. She bobbed up and down a couple more times, letting me ride it out, and then sat back up, a cheeky grin on her face."_

Holy shit, that was good. I find myself a bit hot and bothered by Netras reading, which is certainly not what I'm used to in a classroom. A few other women read their stories, although no one has the guts to stand in front of the class like she did. Some of the excerpts read aloud are insanely good. On the other hand, some are not that great, and I thank my lucky stars that I actually forgot mine. I would have died if I had to read it in front of him. Oh, the embarrassment…

After listening to the stories we get a small group assignment to be finished in half an hour. I quickly team up with Jill and Netra, and since we're not forced to stay in the classroom we head out in the sun. We slump down on the grass and form a tight circle, bowing our heads together. The task is word usage and different euphemisms for things that have to do with sex, and I make notes as we come up with various terms.

"Okay girls, you have to help me out here. I'm Swedish, I don't know any good words in English. If my English teacher in school would have taught us this kind if vocabulary he'd probably be fired."

"Right, we have, of course, the usual ones. Breast, penis, cock, dick, pussy, cunt, beaver, tits, ass, boobs, clit... what else? Shaft, we have to add that one, too."

"Sex, erection and arousal, inviting entrance, lady parts... moist slit... and quivering member, do you remember that one? It's from a movie, "Ten Things I hate about You." You know, with Heath Ledger?"

"Love Heath Ledger... so sad that he passed away! Oh, we have to use dripping cores and throbbing manhood."

"Don't forget molten mound. I've read that once, and I instantly thought of volcanoes, not sex. Oh, add erupted like a volcano, too"

"When we're at the seismic roll, we also have the lava hole."

"The what? I don't even know what that's supposed to be!"

"Here are some fun food related ones: incognito burrito, bearded taco, apple sacs, smut sausage, sausage meat."

"I love this one: one-eyed snake. It's hilarious!"

"Oh, I get to read all sorts... things like rampant rod and rock-hard shaft. I think one of the most memorable - for all the wrong reasons - was someone who talked about a guys' pulsating magnificence. I nearly gagged when I read that. Eww! And was it Oprah who talked about a vajayjay? How ridiculous is that?"

"Actually, vajayjay sounds kind of funny to me...It's like hooo-ha, I like that one too. But not in a lemon, I might add. I always giggle when a guy called Mike, calls his dick _Little Mikey._.."

"Or worse still, Big Mikey... or Monster Mikey. The pulsating magnificence is just... horrific."

We all collapse in fits of the giggles. The more we chatter, the more ridiculous some of these words sound.

"Dong..."

"Or schlong..."

"Nooo... please, for the love of all that's holy, not schlong. Who makes these words up?"

"Willy."

"What?"

"Willy! Little boys in the UK often call it their willy... or their tadger. Big boys, too."

"Oh. In Sweden, Willy's the name of a very low class supermarket. You know, the kind with really cheap groceries."

I splutter and choke as I giggle. I can't decide whether it is because I am amused or embarrassed. To have a store named as a penis, that is hilarious. I will never be able to shop there again without laughing.

As we head back to class, Netra taps Professor McSmutty on his shoulder. She says a few words, and he nods thoughtfully before motioning her to move on. He lifts his eyes and searches the classroom, before settling on me. Holy crap. I turn red again, and instantly wish I had long thick hair to hide behind. I don't, I have a short page, because when my hair is long my face gets really elongated and I end up looking like a horse.

After listening to our words and compiling a long list on the board, Edward introduces our assignment for next time. We are supposed to write a masturbation scene, preferably no more than 300 words. The rules are that we need to write in first person, and we need to use a character of our own sex. Jill wants to write a piece about Jasper, but isn't allowed. Apparently it has to do with drawing from your own experience and making it seem more real. It makes sense. This means I can't use the one I picked out for this class, since it is about a man. I need to write a new one. I sigh.

This has been a couple of really productive hours. I look at my notebook, colourful euphemisms for the human reproductive organs are scrabbled all over the pages. I _so_ need to hide this from my mom next time she visits. I don't know if she'd find it hilarious or just plain weird, but I definitely don't want to explain the reason for all these words in my notebook. Smut class probably isn't the kind education she wished for me when I was a kid, and it sure isn't something to brag about at the annual family get-together.

When class is over I hurry to stash all my things into my backpack, eager to get out of there. The fact that Edward told me to stay after class hasn't slipped my mind, but I vigorously hope that he's forgotten it. I'm in terrible need of a cup of coffee, and Jill and Netra suggest a trip to Starbucks, to increase the caffeine level in our blood and discuss the smut excerpts we just heard in class. Other people might trashtalk them, but we don't trashtalk others. We discuss, because we're nice like that.

"Well, Miss SwedenSara, it seems like you have forgotten our little appointment already."

O god, I love how he says that, _Miss SwedenSara_… If you take away my actual name it would only be Miss Sweden left, and that's the closest I'll ever get to being a beauty queen. I exchange cell numbers with the girls and tell them to leave me behind. I'll catch up with them later. I take a deep breath and follow my insanely sexy teacher to his office.

He motions for me to sit down, and leans against the desk with his arms crossed. I gingerly take place in the chair, and take a look around. His walls are covered with art - erotic art, I might add. He is silently watching me as my eyes wander over the walls, and of course I blush again, like I've never seen a naked peen before.

"So, what was the reason you didn't bring your excerpt to class today?" He asks in a low voice. I can't quite grasp if it's an attempt to being nice, or if I should be intimidated by it. Considering he was sort of sour about this in class, it is probably the latter. I clear my throat, and use my most girly and innocent voice.

"Well, I had one picked out at home, but I forgot it. I'm a bit embarrassed by it though, because compared to some of the things we heard today, it's not very smutty at all!"

He scratches his nose and looks at me, for what seems to be forever. I shift uncomfortably, feeling more and more insecure by the minute.

"I sense that you're not very happy with your lemons?"

"Actually, no I'm not. I suck at it, that's why I'm here."

"How did the group assignment work out for you?"

"Good, I think. At least I learned what words _not_ to use..." I smile at him, and continue. "The girls were really helpful. I don't have that kind of vocabulary, being Swedish and all."

"I gathered from your pen name that English isn't your mother tongue. One of your friends confirmed it when we gathered in the classroom again. She thought I should offer you some help."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Exactly what is he implying?

"I tell you what, why don't you stop by my office tomorrow? Bring your story, and we'll take a look at it together. Maybe you need some tutoring, and I'd be happy to help."

Oh. _Oh!_ So, that's what Netra was saying to him. I need to thank her for that later...

I thank him for his time, and make a new appointment for tomorrow. As I head to the stairs I bring out my phone and text Netra.

**Netra, U just got me a tutor... Thnx 4 that! Are U at coffeplace? /S**

**Still here. R U coming? Tutor name's Edward? /N**

**Hell yes, I got McSmutty as a tutor! Go me! /S**

We spend a few hours at Starbucks, talking smut in general and McSmutty in particular. I still can't believe he actually offered to tutor me, he must really think I need help with this. That is not too far from the truth, though, so I guess I'm grateful for it. I'm excited in more than one way about our next appointment, and I have to say that it turns out to be the subject of my wet dreams for the night. Well, dream on. As if it would ever happen in real life…

I fiddle nervously with my papers as I wait for him outside his office the next day. I read my ugly smut lizard again and again, cringing at the words. To think that I'm about to read this out loud in a few minutes makes me want to puke. Netra read her in front of the entire class, and I try to tell myself that if she did that and survived, I will probably be okay reading it to one person in a small office. In an office full of erotic art, and a hot smut teacher. Crap, this isn't going too well.

He opens the door and invites me in, and I gather my papers before I follow him. I sit down in the chair and wait for him to speak.

"So, did you sleep well?" He asks. That's an odd question.

"Not really, I've been nervous about this since yesterday."

"Oh, there's no need for that. I'm sure it can't be that bad, and even if it is, I'm here to help you. Why don't you tell me a little about the story, and what you find most difficult with writing lemons?"

"Right… My story is an all-human one, where Bella and Edward have been married for a few years. They have kids, and their marriage kind of sucks. They fight a lot, and Edward is an ass, being less than helpful at home, and he is angry all the time. Bella has some issues, that manifest themselves as a fear of being touched, and they haven't had sex in a long time. In the beginning she is considering divorce, and this story is about their journey back to a happy marriage. That's pretty much it."

"Right… No teenage vampire sex, in other words?" He smiles and raises his eyebrow.

"Nope, none." I smile back at him. He is a lot nicer now, than he was in class yesterday.

"The biggest concern about my lemons is that I feel insecure about which words to use, and how to make it sound good. I read a lot of really hot and graphic smut that I love, done by authors like HunterHunting or tby789, and I realize I can never write like that."

"Mostly authors just need to find their own voice. Not all people have to write graphic scenes, and not all people like reading those kinds of lemons. Some actually prefer the more subdued limey ones; they can be extremely erotic. A wise woman once told me that she'd rather read a fade-to-black that leaves her wanting more, than a badly written lemon that reads like a book."

"Thank you for telling me this, it's reassuring! Maybe I'm just not that kind of writer… Or maybe I am. I just haven't realized it yet."

"So, will you let me hear your excerpt?"

The sick feeling in my stomach is returning in full force. I'm actually going to have to read this now. Shit, shit, shit!

"Um… okay… Could you turn around, maybe to the window or something? I think it would be easier if you weren't, you know, watching me while I read. Oh, and it's about Edward... ahem... touching himself... to, um, porn." My voice is trembling slightly, but he obeys and turns his back to me as I start to read.

"_I groan as I browse through the pictures. There, this one… A dark haired woman is on her back, bound to a bed, legs and arms spread wide. Here eyes are covered with a silky black blindfold, her mouth and pussy are open, inviting, wanting and waiting._

_God, if I could watch Bella like this. _

_Waiting for me, trusting me with her body…_

_She would be so beautiful._

_I feel my cock twitch in my hands and my balls tighten, and change to another picture, pumping my hand harder and faster. I look at a woman lying face down on a bed. A pillow beneath her hips is lifting her ass up. Her legs are spread, her knees are bent, and her feet are up in the air. Her hands are on the bed, close to her breasts, as if she is about to do a push-up. Her upper arms are tied together, keeping her elbows apart with a space exactly as broad as her back. Her feet are above her ass, and her ankles are tied to the wrists of her hands, making it impossible for her to lower her feet. _

_I close my eyes and envision Bella in front of me, lying like that, tied up with her pussy bare and open, waiting for me to touch her, caress her. I imagine myself sitting beside her, caressing her back, slowly massaging the cheeks of her small, perfect ass. I hear her moan in my head as I see myself dipping my fingers into her, pressing rhythmically on that sweet spot inside, making her come again and again and again…_

_So pretty…_

_Fuuuuuck_

_I feel my balls tighten as I'm about to come, and I take the towel to catch the juices I spill while watching other women than my wife._

_I don't even look at the screen as I rise and turn the computer off. I toss the towel in the laundry basket, making a mental note to do the laundry myself tomorrow, so she won't have to pick up my used, filthy piece of masturbatory evidence, which by then will be starchy due to the dried semen."_

I clear my throat as I finish reading. My hands are trembling and my legs are weak. I'm thankful that I'm sitting down, or I would probably embarrass myself even more by falling to the ground.

He turns to me, and watches me.

"Well done. I think you tackled that pretty well. It sounds like you knew exactly what you were talking about. You used appropriate vocabulary, it had a nice flow to it."

"Thanks." _I think._

"So, how was it? Was it hard?"

"Yes, of course it was hard! How else was he going to be able to jerk... Oooh. That's not what you meant... Yeah, I'm glad I'm done with it." My voice trails off as I realize I'll probably have to read smut aloud again, in class. He did give us an assignment…

"Are we going to read our writing out loud in class again? Is that what's going to happen with our homework?"

"Some of it, yes. Some of them I'll read to you, and some you will read on your own. It is a good way to feel more comfortable with the words, you know. If you read them aloud they don't seem so threatening or harsh anymore. You get used to them."

"Oh…" It makes sense, although I'm not happy with the prospect of doing this again, in front of everybody. I'll have to practice with the girls first.

"The assignment I gave you, do you have any questions about that?"

"Yes, how do I do it? I mean, I know how to _do it_, but not how to write it." _Oh. My. God. How stupid did I just sound?_

"You did an okay job writing from a male point of view, so I think you'll be fine. Just… When you touch yourself, focus on how it feels, and try to describe that. Describe what you feel with your fingers, what you do, and how it feels when your fingers touch you like that. What noises do you make, what does the fabric on your bed feels like, what do you think about? Do you get what I mean?"

I blush again. This is weird. My teacher just told me to go home and get myself off, and then write it down so I can show it to him. If this was in another context, he would be out for sexual harassment in no time.

"I think I do." I grin sheepishly at him.

"Listen, why don't you take my email address? I have my card here. If there is a problem, don't hesitate to tell me. Okay?"

I must look like a fool as he puts the card in my hand, and I stumble out the door.

"Bye!" He hollers behind me.

I can't believe this is actually happening. I got him to tutor me, no wait, Netra got him to tutor me, and now I'm going home to rub the nub for him.

And I totally know what to think about while I do that.

* * *

_**A/N Sooo... what kind of homework would YOU like professor McSmutty to give us? Let us know! We hope you enjoyed this, next chapter is written by JillM12, and it'll be awesome! Don't forget to check out the Twilighted thread created by the fabulous FangMom: http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795**_


	2. Where is Carlisle?

_**Welcome to Session 2 at the Smutiversity.  
**_

_**As you'll see, a third Cullen-name-a-like arises - well, not yet, but I hope that will come in future chapters ;) - and distracts our non-US students. **_

_**Thank you to my girls, SwedenSara and NetraCullen, we are having so much fun writing this, and Natalie aka vasweetpea for keeping us on the straight and narrow, beta-wise (although if this is straight and narrow, I'd hate to see bent and twisted). If you spot the spelling errors - they're deliberate - I'm English, and that's how we roll here :)**_

_**So, please have your homework assignments ready, make sure you have a pen and paper handy - Professor McSmutty will see you now...**_

_**JillM12x**_

* * *

_**Where is Carlisle?**__ By JillM12_

I'm early again, and the room is practically empty. I look around but neither of my new friends are here yet. _I hope they turn up soon. _I take a seat on the end of the back row, that way I can watch everyone else as they arrive.

I really had fun last time, and I think Sara, Netra and I are going to be great friends. I was worried I'd be the only non-American here, but at least there are the three of us, so I feel much better.

Professor Hawkins was a shock. One, he's a guy. Two, he's a hot, young guy. Three, if the way he was eye-fucking Sara is anything to go by, he's a hot, young, _straight_ guy. The irony of his being called Edward wasn't lost on us, although there are students in the class who write other genres than _Twilight._ Sara has already given him a nickname, Professor McSmutty, and, somehow she's managed to snag extra tutoring with him on account of English not being her first language.

_And the fact she's one hot, sexy, if somewhat geeky, Swede. I wonder if Hawkins speaks Swedish then, or whether he's hoping for private lessons? I can be such a cynical bitch sometimes. Either way, there's no denying, she's a lucky girl._

I have my homework assignment ready to hand in, I hope he doesn't make us read them aloud to the class. It's one thing writing and publishing online, but a totally different scenario standing up in front of your peers and saying it... out loud. Especially when he's told us to draw on our own personal experiences.

The classroom doors swings open and a couple more ladies arrive. They smile, nod hello, and settle into seats on the front row.

_Ha! I know why you're sitting there, girls. Next week, I'm going to bring drool bibs to hand out._

The next person to arrive is a nerdy-looking guy, wearing corduroy slacks and a strangely patterned jumper. _Maybe he got dressed in the dark? _I think I recall him reading out a sample of his _Star Wars_ crackfic. The things he had Princess Leia doing with Chewbacca... well, I guess it just goes to show, appearances can be deceptive!

He's one of only a small number of guys in the group.

The door opens again and a small knot of people arrive. Most are women and, once again, the hot topic is Edward Hawkins. In fact, I think I hear some of them actually sighing. I roll my eyes. I do not want to give up one evening a week listening to a group of vapid women fawning over the fuck-hot professor. I'm here to learn something. _Although, there are worse things to fawn over. He's pretty, that's for sure._

I'm contemplating the finer features of Professor H-for-Hot, when Sara flops into the seat next to mine.

"Good week?"

"Uh-huh." She grins, and she has a lively twinkle in her eye.

"So, how was the tutorial?"

"Oh, the tutoring… I don't know what to say, really. I read my chapter to him, which was absolutely mortifying. Then he asked me if it was hard, and I thought he meant Edward's dick in the story. Of course, he was talking about reading it aloud, so I made a complete fool out of myself."

"Oh no. I'd have died of embarrassment."

"Then he basically told me how to get myself off and write it down for him, so that's what I did. Oh, and he gave me his email address in case I needed to ask him anything. Which I did. Plenty of times."

"You mean you actually emailed him?"

"Yes I did! There I was, on the bed, trying to find out a way to get started. Of course I was totally frigid, just because I needed to get this done. I thought, what the hell, I'll just email him. I mean, he told me to, right? So I did, and he asked me about my fantasies, what I usually think about when I'm about to – you know. And I kind of told him… God, I'm embarrassed by that now. I told him my fantasies, for fucks sake! How stupid am I?"

"Whoa, sharing your fantasies with Professor Hotty... most of the women in class would kill to do that!"

"Yeah, well, doing it nearly killed me instead... Anyway, when he answered, he suggested some porn or erotic novels, maybe my favourite smutty fic. And I figured, what better way is there than Robporn, you know? So I browsed my Robporn file, went through some favourite pics: GQ-Rob, VF-Rob, oh, and the ones from that Japanese shoot where he has the vest and the baggy pants? Gaaah, and the leather jacket pictures, and the ripped t-shirt, oh my god… You know how you get all horny from watching those, right?"

"Hell, yeah."

"Then I was like... _okay, how the hell am I going to get this on paper? Am I supposed to have a fucking scratch pad in bed and take notes?_ Because that's not very erotic. _Okay, hold on there Big O, I'm just gonna write some stuff down and then I can cum._ Big O would flip me the finger and disappear if I did that, and I wouldn't even get a small o. So I emailed him again. And he told me to just get it over with, but be a little more aware than I usually am, and then write it down immediately afterwards."

"Now you have me all hot and bothered. He told you to get on with it? I'd love to know what he was thinking. Maybe he's a closet perv."

"Given the fact that he's teaching this class, not so much closet there... He's a perv, and proud of it! I told him that it would be totally incoherent, because I'm like mentally challenged after an orgasm, and he wrote that I could just scribble down random notes and thoughts and email them to him. Then he could help me sort them out. And as it happened, I thought about how he would read these words in his office, and I imagined him sitting in the chair, reading my email, getting hard, and start touching himself… And that image was rather helpful!"

"Pah! It's not your thoughts he wants to sort out! Did you send them to him? After?"

"Yes I did, dear. Yes I did… And he helped me sort it out, too." She grins smugly.

I'm listening and nodding my head, feeling a tad envious that she gets to spend extra time with the hot professor, but hey, I'm not nasty, and I think it's great he's willing to help her.

The door bangs open and Emmett makes his entrance, booming a loud, "Hi," to everyone in the room.

It's only the second session and we all feel like we know him. He is tall, muscular and handsome, with a charismatic personality to match. Already, he's the joker of the class.

Emmett likes porn. He tells us he's read it extensively, for research purposes... watched it widely, for research purposes... and is about to embark on writing a bodice-ripper of a novel. I suspect that Emmett may have tried lots of other things, for research purposes, too.

I still can't help but like him. At least he's honest and open.

He spots Sara and me, lurking at the back, and comes to join us.

"Where's your friend today?" He points at the empty space beside Sara.

"She's probably running a little late. I've not heard anything, have you?"

I shake my head, allowing myself a small inward smile, as Emmett's bright grin fades a little.

_Hmm, so he's interested in our girl, Netra, is he?_

"Mind if I join?" he asks, leaving the vacant seat, just-in-case.

There's a buzz of conversation around the room, and I catch occasional words as they pass from person to person.

"Crotch, I can't believe I talked about my crotch."

"...and she said if he can jack off, why can't I jill off?"

"She touched her feminine you believe she actually wrote that? "

I giggle, and then quickly try to turn it into a coughing fit, as Professor Hawkins strides through the door. There's a collective sigh, as many of the women around the room fall into some kind of a swoon. I hear a moan and turn to see Emmett trying to look innocent, but I'm onto him.

The professor glares at me, or at least, I think he does. I'm saved by Netra's late entrance.

"Sorry, Prof," she pants, out of breath. "I was waylaid."

"Miss..." He looks down at a list he's holding in his hand, "...Netracullen, isn't it?"

"Umm, yes, Professor Hawkins."

"Might I suggest you make every effort to arrive before I do in future?"

She chokes back a laugh, rolls her eyes and strolls leisurely to her seat.

"What's so funny?" I ask as she squeezes past me.

"He wants me to come first next week," she whispers, and winks at my mock-scandalised look.

_I wish I had half her sassiness._

Emmett is looking very pleased. Clearly, he's caught what Netra just said.

"Hmm, I'd always make sure _you_ came first, baby."

I see her hand as it flashes through the air and lands across his right ear.

"Fuck, that hurt."

"Is there a problem back there?" Professor Yummy has noticed the commotion.

Netra is cool as a cucumber.

"Sorry, Professor Hawkins. My fault. Annoying fly and I swatted it. I think I got it."

Emmett is grinning like a loon. He believes he's got away with it. Already I feel I know Netra better that to think she'll leave it at this. Game on, I suspect.

"Fine." The pretty prof is pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let's get down to business."

There's a murmur around the room, and I swear there's a collective twitching of ovaries as the women in the room contemplate _getting down to business_ with the good professor.

"Last time, we discussed common terms for the male and female genitalia, as used by writers of fiction, smut, if you will. I overheard one or two _very_ interesting discussions. Today, we are going to continue with that topic, and discuss appropriateness.

For example..."

He holds up a piece of paper and reads from it.

"_Sam pinned her against the wall, his body pressed so close to hers that it would have been hard to get even a sheet of paper between them. Their mouths crashed together, lust overtaking them. He lifted her skirt and impatiently removed her panties, not caring if they ripped or not. Undoing his zipper, he thrust his pee-pee into her bearded taco_..."

There's a split seconds silence, then everyone begins to laugh. Even the good professor grins – and boy, when he grins, it is really something. Emmett is guffawing so loudly it makes everyone giggle even harder.

"So, you see how inappropriate word usage can spoil a carefully set scene; all that hard work and effort, ruined in a moment."

I see lots of women, nodding their heads vigorously in agreement, holding on to every word the professor says. I'm pretty sure they'd agree with whatever he said, his voice is rather hypnotic. But, he's making sense; I've read stories where poor word use has put me off.

"Here's your group assignment for today. Discuss good and bad use of appropriate vocabulary. I expect each group to come back with at least one example of each to share."

"Excuse me, Professor Hawkins." The voice is coming from an older lady, sitting on the front row. Her voice sounds... falsely soft. _Is she trying to flirt with him?_ "But do you mean we should have an example of good word use and one of poor use?"

"Yes, exactly that, Miss..." He scans his class list. "Miss... um... Foxycougar."

Sara's eyebrows are raised, and she's shaking her head.

"Come along, ladies. We need caffeine, and _I_ need a cigarette." Netra has her bag ready to go and is fidgeting slightly. She hustles us out into the corridor and sets a brisk pace towards the coffee shop.

We have forty-five minutes to come up with two good examples, and we're already on our second cups of coffee. Netra is telling us why she was late to class.

"So, yeah, I called him an asshole and kicked him out. He wasn't even that good."

"How long had you been together?"

"Only a few weeks, not long enough to care so much. I guess it was fun while it lasted."

"So you're not really heartbroken, then?"

"You could say that." She takes another drag on her cigarette.

"Ah, ladies. So this is where you've hidden yourselves." A shadow falls on our table as Emmett strides across the coffee shop.

"Now, if you would mind making a space for me by this little lady..." He stands beside Netra, looking hopeful. I have a feeling the _little lady_ in question is less than impressed by his terminology.

She gives him a murderous glare. He seems quite oblivious, and obviously has a death wish. Netra is standing up. _Oh-oh!_

"Hey there, Emmett. It _is_ Emmett, isn't it?" She's going all sweet Aussie girl on him, and he thinks he's in with a chance. The look on his face is priceless.

"It sure is, sugar."

"Well... Emmett..." I look at Sara, whose eyes are bugging out, large and round, behind her spectacles, and I feel a thrill of illicit anticipation.

Quick as a flash, Netra's right hand whips out and grabs a rather tender part of Emmett's anatomy. Emmett doesn't quite know what is going on, and his expression borders between excitement and embarrassment.

Netra speaks in a low, clear voice. "...let's get this straight. I am not anyone's _little lady_, not now, not ever. My friends would say I've got balls, and right now I've got _your_ balls firmly in my grasp. Call me little lady one more time, and I'll make sure you speak a whole octave higher, and people will be mistaking you for the only little lady around here. Got it?" She gives a little squeeze, just to be sure he understands.

Emmett pales and nods.

"Good. Now, please feel free to pull up a chair, and help us out with this damned group work."

Sara is grinning and I feel as if I want to applaud the way Netra just handled Emmett. _Hehehe, handled him. She certainly did. I wonder if he's got a big dick? I bet he has._

"So... appropriate and inappropriate language; anyone got any thoughts?"

We're having so much fun, drinking coffee and laughing over the more wacky examples we've thought up, that we lose track of time.

I happen to glance at my wristwatch and realise we've only got a few minutes before we're due back in class.

"Come on, you guys, we're going to be late. Professor Pretty will be mad."

"I enjoy making him pissed. It's fun." Netra gives a wicked grin, and I swear I see Emmett blush. _He really does like her._

"Don't you wind him up," Sara cautions, a slight frown on her face. "I don't want him in a bad mood when I go for my tutorial after class."

"You're such a lucky cow. Just don't forget who got you the extra time with the Smutmeister."

"I know, I know. I owe you."

We're back at the classroom door, and Professor Hawkins is standing at the front as we file in to the room.

"So glad you decided to rejoin us," he said, sarcasm dripping in his tone.

"We're happy to be back, doc."

I don't know how Netra does it; I wouldn't dare speak to him like that.

Hawkins grimaces. "When you're quite settled, we'll begin."

The door creaks open again. I raise my eyebrows to Sara, who shakes her head and nudges me, a gesture designed to get me looking forwards.

"Ah, Jasper," says Professor Hottie, "welcome. Come and meet the class."

I think my mouth might just be hanging open, but I don't care. _Did he say, Jasper?_ _New guy is called Jasper? I think I might be dreaming and we're in some strange parallel universe, populated by hot males bearing the name of Twilight characters. This cannot be so. We have an Edward, an Emmett, and now a Jasper. All we need is Carlisle and we have a fulll complement of Cullens._

"Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my friend and colleague, Doctor Jasper Withbone. He's going to be assisting with the delivery of this course from here on in. I hope you'll make him welcome."

"Mmmm." _Who the hell said that?_

I look around to see my classmates staring at me. _What? Why are they all looking this way?_ Netra and Sara are wide-eyed and giggling behind their hands. Suddenly, it registers in my dull brain. _Holy fuck! _I feel colour rising from my toes, all the way up to my face. I think I may be having a hot flush. I cough, but it is too late to disguise the fact that I just moaned – out loud – at the sight of newbie teacher.

"Everything okay? Miss... er..." He looks at his list. "Yes, Miss JillM12?"

"Fine Professor, thank you," I mumble, as sniggers reverberate around the room. I take deep breaths, and try to re-focus.

Geez, I haven't blushed like that since I was a kid. How mortifying. Then I hear it, the slow southern drawl. _I think I may spontaneously combust._

"Hey there, everyone. I'm real glad to be here, teaching alongside my good friend, Professor Hawkins. I hope we'll share some great experiences together."

_Oh! Yes, please. Let me share experiences with you. Where would you like to begin?_

He sits down. I'm momentarily relieved that he is out of my direct sight, although I can still see the shoulder length hair, dark and wavy, looking so... touchable.

"Oi!" Netra stage whispers. "Obvious much? Why don't you go right down there and jump him?"

She grins.

"Bitch!" I hiss. She mock growls at me, then laughs.

At my other side, Sara is smiling too. She places a hand on my arm, as if to calm me down.

"It's okay." I think I'm getting myself together, when Jasper – _Lord, I love that name_ – stands up and turns around to face the class.

"The art of writing successful sex lies in creating a mood."

_Oh. You could get me in the mood, anytime._

"Many strong pieces of writing are spoiled by using inappropriate language. Can anyone think of any examples?"

A lady at the front tentatively raises her hand.

"Yes, ma'am?" My mouth is dry and my panties are wet. _He called her ma'am. Oh, fuck. That accent is killing me._

She's talking about euphemisms for making love. I hear the words _bury the bone_ and I'm in danger of losing it. Others begin to join in.

"I vote for _doin' the horizontal mambo _- slow, slow, quick, quick, slow." Emmett just has to chime in. He really can't help himself.

Netra throws him a filthy look.

"What? Hey, I can't help it if I'm a great dancer. Ouch!"

She's pinched him on the arm.

"Careful, I'm very sensitive. I bruise like a peach."

"_Dipping the drumstick_."

"Yeah, and _bumping uglies_."

"_Ink the pen._"

"_Feed the puss._"

"How about _taking a spunk dump_."

Sara nudges me, she's looking slightly green. "That is just awful. Do people really use that?"

"Apparently so. I've never heard half of these." I suppose I am actually learning something today.

"S_core between the posts_."

"_Assault with a friendly weapon." _

I snigger at that one, allowing my dirty mind to conjure up an image of Jasper's friendly weapon.

As Emmett calls out, "_hide the sausage_," I can't help myself. I snort with laughter.

Fortunately for me, several other students are having a breakdown too. Even McSmutty is grinning widely.

As he looks up to see Emmett, Jasper catches my eye and holds my gaze just a moment too long. My face flames for the second time in one afternoon. His lips purse slightly, and then split wide, revealing perfect, white, even, teeth. _I'm a goner._

I slither down in my chair, looking for a place to hide my embarrassment. Netra smirks as Emmett high fives her.

"So you see..." The voice is back, hypnotising me and playing havoc with my lady bits. "...inappropriate terminology can completely destroy a very intense scene."

"Looks like his terminology is destroying something else."

"Huh?" The whisper in my ear drags me back to reality. "I don't know what you mean."

"Your composure is what I mean. You haven't stopped drooling since he stepped through the door."

"But he is rather delicious, and his name is Jasper. Withbone. 'With bone' seems like an appropriate name for someone in this class..." whispers the voice on my other side.

"Shh. Stop it. You're embarrassing me." They each pull a face, and make somewhat explicit gestures to each other.

I'm hanging on to his every word, trying my hardest not to sigh as the sound of his voice.

"Before we get to your group tasks, I'm going to read you an extract from one of our authors. I'd like you to consider the language. Is it appropriate for the setting? How does it make you feel?

_"I didn't hear them as they got up to leave and go back to the house, the only thing that mattered was this amazing man and the feelings we shared._

_We kissed and touched for what seemed like hours, before his hands went searching under my skirt. He grabbed my ass and pulled me into a kneeling position, moving my panties to one side, searching for my innermost part. Finding me drenched, he moaned, and undid the zip of his jeans, drawing me back down until he filled me._

_I moulded myself around him and moved up and down, watching his chiseled face as we made love under the stars. When he moved his lips to my neck, I moaned softly, which inflamed him even further._

_The heat spreading through my body was immense, and I was close to orgasm._

_Then he did something totally unexpected; he bit my neck, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to mark me. It was so erotic that I tipped over the edge, whispering his name as wave after wave washed over me. Feeling my muscles tighten around him was sufficient to trigger his release, and at that point I knew without doubt, we really were joined forever."_

He looks directly at me... and smiles, watching my discomfort as I recognise the words he's just read.

_Fuck. My. Life. That's my story, or a very small part of it._ Suddenly, I'm angry. How dare he use part of my story without asking me first? And in front of all these people. I'm sure I read something about an author being the intellectual owner of their property. Now everyone is going to criticise me and tell me I write rubbish. _I'm fucking livid._

I'm sure my face must register this, as his smile disappears to be replaced by a look of... what? Concern?

I glance around, relieved that nobody else seems to recognise those words were actually mine.

Then the discussion begins.

"I actually think the author does a pretty good job."

"Why?"

"Well, the first sentence sets the scene. They're alone, somewhere, and completely wrapped up in each other. It's hot."

"So if I told you they're on a beach. They've had a party with friends, who've now left them alone." Jasper pipes up with a little more information.

"Then it's even hotter... the element of risk."

"And sand in all the wrong places," yells Emmett. Most people in the class laugh.

"What about the language? Is it appropriate?"

"I think is it, yes. The description of foreplay suggests two people with feelings beyond lust, maybe even love."

"And there's something about the pace. Until they're about to climax, it seems unhurried, then as it builds it becomes more urgent."

"Good observation."

"The author uses lovemaking rather than fucking."

"So?"

"So it suggests emotion, a relationship between these two. It's clearly something that has evolved over time and may still be developing."

"Any criticisms?"

I'm holding my breath now, waiting for the rush of comments, but they never come.

"Okay, good. I might point out that a few of the words are a little euphemistic, but, in the context they're entirely correct. All in all, a good example of proper usage."

I release the breath slowly, and take great care not to look in Doc Jasper's direction.

"What's the matter with _her_?" Netra is in snarky mode.

"Looks like Doctor Hottie is getting to her," says Emmett.

"Who asked you?" Netra snaps. "Shut it, porno boy."

Emmett grins. "That's me, porno boy. Want to come back to mine and I'll show you my collection?"

"Not a chance, perv."

"There's nothing pervy about it. My collection is wide, varied and highly educational. Might help relieve your tension, baby."

"Call me baby one more time and you might not live long enough to get back to your precious collection."

_I love this girl, snark and all._

Sara leans over and asks if I'm okay.

"Yeah, just a bit wrong-footed. I'll tell you after class."

"Okay, everyone, let's have some feedback from the groups. Miss SwedenSara, let's hear what your group came up with."

Sara flushes, then stands to read out our first example.

"_I could feel the heat emanating from the beautiful man standing behind me. "Bella…" His voice was nothing but a whisper, but it was a sound I would recognize anywhere. I had missed him so much it hurt. I closed my eyes and sighed, drinking in his scent and revelling in his embrace. His hands traced lightly over my back side, along my spine all the way up to the back of my neck. I felt his fingers brush my skin, before he gently gathered my hair in his hand and swept it aside. His breath was hot against my skin as he placed small kisses on my neck, flicking his tongue on that sweet sensitive spot below my ear, gently sucking on my earlobe. I moaned as his teeth grazed the soft flesh, and I could feel his growing erection against my back. I raised my hands and grabbed his hair, pulling his head down from behind me, eager to feel his light stubble on my cheeks and kiss his soft lips. I wanted him so bad, and I could feel the lust taking over my body, clouding my mind and heightening my senses._

_His hands found their way under my shirt to my heaving chest, and I whimpered as he cupped my breasts, rubbing my nipples with his thumb through the thin satin of my bra. I pressed my chest against his hands, silently begging for him to touch me more, harder, rougher. He growled, and quickly jerked my shirt off, spinning me around, facing me._

"_I need you so badly, and I've waited too long for this." His voice was thick with want, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of me. I kissed him fervently and moaned into his mouth._

"_Edward, take me now, on this bed. Please..."_

_He pushed me down on he bed, growled at me to turn over, as he ripped off my panties._

"_God, you have a beautiful ass." I heard the sound of a zipper, and felt his hand grab my hips, guiding himself into me. He let out a sigh of relief as he slowly pushed his sex deep inside. I've dreamt of him entering me for so long, missed his touch so much, and feeling him slowly move inside of me was excruciating pleasure. I wanted more, faster and deeper, and I started to move my body, meeting his every thrust, urging him on. He reached round to touch me, and panted as he started massaging my swollen clit._

"_I won't last long, baby..."_

_His skilled fingers and the words he moaned was all I needed to finally fall over the edge. I felt the orgasm ripple through me, making my body convulse around him. He growled as he fell right after, releasing deep inside of me."_

Professor Hawkins is back on his feet.

"Well done; now, Miss Netracullen, would you be so kind as to read out your inappropriate example?"

Netra clears her voice.

"Well, what we did was to simply use the first example and exchange some of the words. We didn't rephrase the first paragraph, so I won't read that part again."

She makes a theatrical pause, making sure every ones attention is directed at her, smiles and starts to read.

"_His hands found their way under my shirt to my heaving front-bumpers, and I whimpered as he grabbed my bazoombas, rubbing my nubbins with his thumb through the thin satin of my boobie-holder. I pressed my hooters against his hands, silently begging for him to touch me more, harder, rougher. He growled, and quickly jerked my shirt off, spinning me around, facing me._

"_I need to boink you so badly, and I've waited too long for this." His voice was hungry for some humpery, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to dance the mattress jig with him. I tongue wrestled him and moaned into his mouth._

"_Edward, hit me with your love stick now, on this bed. Please..."_

_He pushed me down on he bed, growled at me to turn over, as he ripped off my panties._

"_God, you have a nice piece of luggage." I heard the sound of a zipper, and felt his hand grab my love handles, guiding his longhorn into me. He let out a sigh of relief as he slowly pushed Captain One-Eye deep inside my hoo-haa. I've dreamt of that hot beef injection for so long, missed his touch so much, and feeling his schlong slowly move inside of me was excruciating pleasure. I wanted more, faster and deeper, and I started to move my booty, meeting his every thrust, urging him on. He reached round to touch me, and panted as he started finger-fucking my swollen joy-buzzer._

"_I won't last long, baby..."_

_His skilled fingers and the words he moaned was all I needed to finally reach the big O. I felt the blast-off ripple through me, making my skin chimney milk him. He growled as he fell right after, shooting his love custard deep into my sausage wallet."_

There are murmurs around the room, and some choked giggling. Emmett is actually crying with his effort to conceal his laughter.

"Good work, ladies." Emmett clears his throat loudly. "And gentleman."

Edward turns to the rest of the class. "See how using different words completely changes the feel of the piece. Okay, let's have some more more examples."

I'm only half-listening as the other groups take their turns. Doctor Withbone has totally disarmed me. I'm far more interested in the back of his head than I am in hearing my classmates writing efforts. He turns suddenly, and I only just manage to hide the fact I've been fixated on him for the past - I look at my watch - fifteen minutes. _Oh. My. Life_. I'm more than a little relieved he didn't catch me staring like a loon.

I glance along the row and Emmett mimes at me. He is wiping away drool and pointing towards Doctor J. then back at me. I scowl and give him the finger. Netra has her hand over her mouth, obviously trying to hold back a smirk.

"What?" I snap, under my breath.

"You two," she says in a low voice. "First, Sara and Professor Perve, now you and Doctor Drawl. I'd swear it was catching, like some kind of virus. Thank god, I'm immune!"

Emmett overhears. "Aw, baby..." Netra issues a swift sideways kick to his shin. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Just be thankful it was only your shin I aimed at." Netra is giving him a wicked grin.

"And here I am, willing to infect you with my love bug and help you build up your immune system."

She raises her hand, about to do goodness-knows-what, when a voice interrupts.

"Enough of the flirtfest," Professor Hawkins calls out as he walks back to the front of the room, earning a scowl from Netra and a smirk from Emmett.

"Later," she mimes at Emmett.

"Can't wait," he mimes back.

McSmutty arrives back at his desk, asking for our homework assignments from last time, and telling us about our next task. I write automatically, making a note of what he's saying, and as we leave, I wait to place my assignment on top of the growing pile.

Sara is hanging back, waiting for a brief tutorial with McSmutty. I notice her trying to discreetly tidy her hair.

Netra and Emmett are still bickering, heading out the door. Netra gestures towards the coffee shop and I nod. I don't want to walk with them and get caught in the crossfire.

I try to subtly glance around and locate Doctor J. He's not on my left. Nor is he to my right. I'm disappointed, I was hoping for another little ogle to keep me going until next week's class.

_Oh, well, I have my fantasies. My very naughty - now starring Doctor Jasper Withbone - fantasies._ I hope they will help me with my writing assignments.

I'm already engrossed in a fantasy, and "he" is whispering my name. I'm not really looking where I'm going, and as I leave the room I walk slap bang into someone.

"I'm so sorry." I look up, straight into smiling hazel eyes and a Hollywood smile.

"No need to apologise ma'am. I'm fine. Are you okay?"

I nod. _Please God, don't let me drool. Amen._

"I guess it's me that owes you an apology. I'm sorry I didn't warn you that I was going to use part of one of the stories you submitted to Edward when you applied for the course. He didn't think you'd mind, but I should've checked. Sadly, I was running a little late. Sorry if it caught you off guard. You looked really pissed when you realised."

"Um, I was, a little, but I'm not now."

"That's good to hear. Your story really is very good, you know."

I'm pretty mesmerised by the man standing in front of me. I swear he must be able to hear my heart thumping. It's quite a compliment he's just paid me. I glance down.

"Thank you, Doctor Withboner."

_Oh ground open up and swallow me now. Please. _

* * *

**Don't forget to check out the Twilighted thread created by the fabulous FangMom: http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795**


	3. Perv Boy and Late Girl Make A Porno

_**Well, hello there. I'm just going to say that even though I barely have time for my own fics, this one was far too brilliant for me not to be a part of it, so here I am. Props to Sara and Jill for writing their smut! (Note from Sara: that smut was originally a dream sequence for my wip, and will also be found in chapter 19 of TSCBS. JSYK...)**_

_**As always, thanks to Natalie aka vasweetpea for beta'ing our baby...**_

* * *

_**Perv Boy and Late Girl Make A Porno.**__ By Netracullen_

I skip into class about 20 minutes after it has started, earning myself another death stare from professor Sexface… Hawkins… whatever.

"Late again, Netra?" I'd have thought he'd be used to it by this point.

"Chill out, teach, it's no biggie," I say casually as I dump my bag on the table, giving Emmett a glare for stealing my usual seat in the room.

He clears his throat sternly and I turn around to face him, being met with a very unhappy lecturer. How he could still look so pretty while so angry, I would never know. I almost wish I'd pretended English wasn't my first language so that I could hook myself up with some one-on-one tutoring like Sara. Lucky, lucky girl.

He doesn't sound like he is in the mood for my delightfully facetious behaviour today, so I make an attempt to look solemn and penitent. I can hear the muscled-out douche bag sitting in my seat laughing under his breath and make a mental note to elbow him in the crotch before turning to face Edward and give him the performance of my life.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," I tell him seriously. "Something came up that simply had to be dealt with before I could make it in." The something in question was that I had somehow managed to simultaneously run out of concealer and cigarettes on the same day, and was forced to go out hunting for them. With a hangover. Brutal. If that wasn't just cause for me to be late for class, I didn't know what was.

I have a feeling that Professor Hawkins probably wouldn't be so generous if I give him the full excuse for my tardiness, so I keep it short and vague, relying on the puppy-dog face (that I had well and truly mastered over the years) to get me out of trouble. He rolls his eyes and gestures to my customary position in the room, although it was filled with a giant chunk of assfaced guy. I scurry into the seat beside Emmett, because at least that way I'm not forced to sit with foxycougar or luvinjacob4eva or, heaven forbid, one of the other genres of fic writers. Ew.

As soon as I am seated, Emmett stretches his arm out behind me. I have the sneaking suspicion that he knows exactly how much it pisses me off when he does that and is doing it purely for that purpose. Jill leans forward to look conspicuously at Emmett's extended arm and then shoots me a wink. I give her a look that clearly says 'I had nothing to do with this' and she smirks before averting her gaze back to our teacher.

"So, ladies," he starts and Emmett scowls, "today we're going to be working in pairs to put together a fantasy sequence." There are excited whispers and gasps throughout the room at the fun challenge. I glance around and you could see the wheels turning as girls sifted through their minds for their favourite fantasies. I also notice our pretty professor sharing a quick look with Sara that I don't completely understand. His expression is… knowing and playful, as if he knows that Sara would have plenty of material. Her expression is… embarrassed. Mortified in fact, she is blushing bright red.

"You can choose your own pairs, and let your imaginations run wild. Come up with whatever you like, about 500-700 words should do the trick, but we'll just see how we go. Remember what we've talked about in past classes about appropriate language, and I look forward to seeing what you come up with." He returns to his desk and sits down, but not before shooting Sara one more look.

Hmm…

I quickly look over Emmett's gigantic form to see that Jill and Sarah have already put their heads together and are starting to sketch out ideas on a piece of paper that rests between them. Shit. I slowly return my gaze to the mountain of a man beside me, who has a triumphant grin on his face.

"I guess that means we're together, partner," he says smugly.

Shit. I lean over him to shoot a quick glare at Sara and Jill, who I suspect have done this to me on purpose.

"Thanks so much, girls. Really." They look at me, playing innocent, although Sara is obviously fighting back a smile. They are pure evil, the pair of them.

One of the things I love about our teacher, other than his many physical attributes of course, is that he doesn't force us to sit in the stuffy classroom all day while we work. I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder, stomping out of the room to the sound of Jill and Sara laughing.

Bitches.

The moment I get out of the room, I fish out my cigarettes and lighter from their designated pocket in my oversized bag. Cute, yes, but functional, not so much. I light up and inhale the precious nicotine, using it to sooth my irritation with the blue-eyed brute who bursts through the door moments after me.

"Can you do _anything_ without making a noise?" I ask, a little crabby from lack of sleep.

"You can find out first hand if you like," he offers with an easy wink, and I roll my eyes and walk off, leaving him trailing behind me.

I end up finding a particularly inviting patch of grass to settle myself on. I lean back, soaking in the sunlight and using my bag as a pillow.

Emmett drops down, sitting opposite me and stretching his legs out. God, he is huge. It's almost unsettling, really. Or, it would have been, if not for the ridiculously silly grin plastered on his face. I lay back, closing my eyes to think.

"Ok," I start after a few moments, "I don't really want to do some ridiculous costumed affair or a bondage theme, because I have a feeling they'll be done by the others." I have no doubt Sara and Jill are cooking up something truly hot even though they act all innocent, and I don't want to half-ass the project either. "Do you have any ideas?"

Despite my eyes being closed, I can almost hear his face lighting up.

"I might," he says ominously. I crack one eye open to see his gleeful expression at having more or less free reign in leading the project. He sits up further, tucking his legs under his body and leaning towards me excitedly.

"So here's what I'm thinking. Voyeurism."

Trust him to suggest that. I roll my eyes at him.

"Next."

"No," he persists, "think about it. It could be really hot. A guy somewhere, watching the girl he wants more than anything else on video, a webcam maybe? She does things, either of her own volition or under his suggestion while he watches, urging her on."

Honestly, Emmett is painting a pretty intriguing picture in my mind, although I try to keep a poker face while he explains himself completely.

"It'd be different because it's a fantasy with a twist. They're fantasising about being together when they can't rather than something impossible and farfetched. The forbidden fruit and all that jazz."

"I think… I think I like it," I confess, and he smiles at me winningly, obviously pleased with himself.

"So who are our two main characters, if we're going to need two."

"How about you and I?" he asks lowly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I abruptly realize that he has been setting me up all along to get to this point. I decide that rather to flip him off and walk away, that I will toy with him first.

"So…" I muse, "I would be performing for you, on video."

"Uh huh," he says, sounding as though he is already envisioning it. Perv. I'm going to teach him a lesson for being such a sleaze. I pretend to look thoughtful, as if I am trying to plot out the scene in my head. On the inside, I'm laughing evilly, knowing that he was about to get what he deserves, but nothing even close to what he thinks he is getting.

"Ok… I can see it in my head," I tell him, lowering my voice in a deliberate attempt to sound seductive. "I'm sitting on a bed, and the video camera is set up at the end of it."

"Yep," he says, looking at me intently while I pretend to contemplate the scene.

"I'm wearing… a men's shirt, yours in fact, half buttoned, and you have no idea what's underneath it." He nods wordlessly, and what I hope is a coy smile spreads across my face.

"I lean back across the bed, settling back on the pillows." I lean back against my bag as I say this, trying to give him a visual to enhance the one in his mind. "I'll need to be comfortable for this, we're going to be here for a while." My voice is quiet and lilting, sucking him in. It's quite clearly working, his eyes are starting to drift closed without him seeming to realise.

"I lean over to my bedside table, opening the top drawer and rifling around for something I know is in there." I pause dramatically, giving him a moment to let his mind run away with the possibilities of what I have in the drawer. The dreamy smile that spreads across his face makes me fairly sure that he's pinpointed something, and that it couldn't be further from the truth.

"What do you have in there?" he asks, his voice a little husky. Oh, this is priceless.

"You'll just have to wait and see, impatient boy," I chide him playfully. He smirks, and I know that his mind has led him down a very particular path, and that he is ripe to be given a rude awakening.

"I pull the book from the drawer."

His eyes snap open.

"Book?" he asks, dumbfounded. I ignore his confusion.

"I flip open the first page, and start reading out loud. 'In the beginning, God created the heavens

and the earth…"

"You're reading me the Bible?"

I look up to see his completely horrified expression, and after a seconds pause, I burst into hysterical laughter, doubling over and laughing until tears are streaming down my face. He looks like I've just boiled his puppy. Once I manage to calm myself, I speak.

"That's the sexiest thing I'd ever do on camera for you, buddy," I taunt him. "Now, seriously, we have some work to do."

Three hours later, we're sitting back in class, and Emmett is quieter than usual as he does a final read through of our assignment, obviously still downtrodden. Sara and Jill look at us, confused. Professor hot-as-hell is talking to one of the pairs in back, so rather than commence a verbal conversation, Sara passes me a note.

**What did you do to him? He looks so sad - S + J**

**I just gave him what he deserved. He tried to trick me into writing a fantasy between the two of us, so I had a little fun with him involving a video camera and the bible. - N**

Jill laughs for a moment, causing Edward to turn around and silence us with a firm look. Man, this authoritarian routine was starting to grow old. She starts scribbling on the paper, only to pass it back a moment later.

**We want information… As soon as humanly possible. - J + S**

I laugh quietly to myself, looking forward to the chance to have a laugh with the girls about my afternoon with Emmett. A shadow crosses my desk and I snatch up the paper, looking up to see Professor Edward standing before me, an expectant look on his face.

"Something amusing you, Miss Netra?"

"Oh, not really. I'm just really looking forward to hearing Jill and Sara's fantasy sequence, and I know they're excited to read it. Or, better yet, for you to read it."

I hear two gasps from beside me, and I turn to smile angelically at the girls, who have horrified expressions on their faces.

_That's what you get for sticking me with the voyeur, ladies._

"Well," Edward said as he walked over to stand in front of them, "if that's the case, I'd be more than happy to read out what they've put together for the class. I'm sure they've come up with something very… intriguing."

Sara refuses to lift her eyes from the desk before her. She looks like she is going to die of embarrassment, and Jill doesn't look a whole lot better off.

_Yeah, me being stuck with Emmett isn't so funny now, huh?_

He leans down closer to them as he picks up their excerpt.

"I'm sure it'll be brilliant, girls," he reassures them before straightening up and stepping back. He glances at the page, skim-reading it before he reads it aloud to the class in his velvety voice. I can already tell that at least a few girls in the room are probably going to have to wipe off their chairs when this is done. Hell, Emmett probably won't be able to walk out of here without putting himself on display.

"_I'm sitting on what seems to be a simple wooden chair, without armrests. I'm naked, and the hard material of the chair is cold against my skin. I'm blindfolded, with my hands tightly tied behind my back. The ropes feel thick and soft, almost silky. My ankles are firmly secured to the legs of the chair, forcing my legs apart."_

The Prof swallows. I know this, I see his Adam's Apple rise and fall. I snicker to myself.

"_The chilly air in the room is giving me goose bumps, and my chest is rising and falling as I breathe heavily. I'm not afraid, but feel slightly anxious, not knowing what to expect. Suddenly I hear the familiar squeak of a door being opened. A gentle gust of air is caressing my skin, and I recognize the soft sound of bare feet padding towards me across the floor. A faint scent of honey reaches my nostrils: it is a feminine fragrance, and it reminds me of breakfast outside on a warm summer day. The roses that are climbing the fence surrounding the patio smell just like this._

_Someone is lightly touching my shoulders, as if to let me know I'm not alone anymore. I feel full lips gently trailing my neck, and long strands of soft hair flowing down across my breasts. I moan as the lips make small kisses on my back, from one shoulder to the other, and I inhale sharply as teeth are grazing my skin._

_I feel the heat emanating from the other body in the room. I know the person has moved; the air around me is slightly disturbed. The scent of honey is getting stronger, and I realize that this someone is standing closely in front of me. Suddenly I feel the soft swell of full breasts against my cheeks. The feminine scent, the soft lips and the long soft strands of hair suddenly make sense - it all belongs to another woman. _

_I feel my nipples tighten, and a tingling sensation is spreading between my legs. My imagination runs wild with images of this woman, and my mind is filled with rounded hips, soft brown hair, inviting lips and swelling breasts with delicious peaks. I feel an instant shot of desire as the woman's puckered nipple brushes against my parted lips. I open my mouth and dart my tongue out, eager to taste the skin, but she quickly moves away, just out of reach, and kisses my neck again while slowly caressing my back."_

I glance at the girls, their discomfort is apparent. _So, they decided to write a lesbian fantasy... way to go, ladies._

Professor Sexface is looking a tad flustered, just like everyone else in the room, if we're being honest. He throws another glance at Sara, whose face flames even redder. He clears his throat and continues.

"_Her soft hands are slowly massaging my shoulders, and as I relax she slides her hands down my chest, running her fingers along my collarbones before lightly cupping my breasts. I whimper when her thumb almost grazes my nipple, and I hear her soft laugh at my overeager response. I part my knees further and flex my hips up, searching desperately for something to release some of the sweet tension that is growing inside of me. I feel the heavy pulsing of blood filling my wet folds, making them even more sensitive and causing my swollen clitoris to throb. I want her to touch me so desperately, but I'm unable to move, and words are failing me. I moan quietly while my head tilts backwards, exposing my throat._

_I feel her tongue trailing along my neck, from below my ear all the way to my collarbone. I gasp as she blows gently on my skin, causing a chilling sensation along the wet trail. Her hair is falling over my shoulder, and I feel the strands tickling my belly. I hear her move before I feel her hands gripping my knees firmly, pushing them apart, and opening me up to her. She grabs my hips and pulls me forward, making my bottom rest on the edge of the chair. Her warm breath beats against my wet folds and aching entrance, sending shivers through my body."_

Sexface shifts the paper into his left hand and leans back against his desk, taking the opportunity to sneakily adjust himself as he sits. Classic hard-on hiding move! I don't know if it just me, but his voice sounds a little more... strained, as he reads on.

"_When her tongue unexpectedly flicks over my sensitive clitoris, my entire body jolts with pleasure. I feel her fingers slowly entering me, curling slightly upwards and massaging that sweet spot inside. The ropes are straining at my hands and feet as I try to move closer to her mouth. The feeling of constraint mixed with her mouth gently sucking my erect bud and licking my soft lips, is finally giving me the release I need. I fall apart before her, my body quivering and ecstatic as I come undone like never before."_

There is a shocked silence and then a kind of collective whoosh as, all around the room, my fellow students release the breath they've been holding. I grin at the thought of so many of my classmates shifting uncomfortably in their seats. I wonder how many pairs of panties will be hitting the laundry straight after class?

Sara and Jill are still looking down, and Sara is actually shaking her head in disbelief. I glance at Emmett, who is quite blatantly adjusting himself, his hand in his pocket. I give him a death stare.

"What?" He shrugs. "Girl-on-girl action is fucking hot."

That may be, but I'm damned if I'll give him the satisfaction of actually agreeing with him. I mouth the word _pervert _and turn my head. All I hear is a low chuckle.

The professor has, uncharacteristically, sat down behind his desk. He calls for homework assignments to be placed in a pile on the desk as we leave. I wait in line behind the girls and nearly die when I overhear Edward's comment to Sara.

"Well, Miss SwedenSara, I'm very impressed. It turned out even better in the writing than when you told me about this fantasy. You're doing really well."

Hmm, constructive criticism or flirting? I'd say the latter. Sara is beetroot coloured.

He's still holding the transcript and smiling. I notice him shift ever so slightly and I can't keep a straight face; I know what's going on beneath that desk, he's just not as brazen as Emmett when it comes to making adjustments.

I approach the desk and place my paper on the top of the pile, trying, and most likely failing, to not look facetious.

"Do try and be on time next week, Netra."

I smirk. "Absolutely, Professor Hawkins. I'll try my _hard_est."

As soon as we're out the door, I'm pressing Sara for details.

"You told him that?"

She nodded.

"I think he liked it. Fuck, I _know_ he did, he had to sit down to hide his hard-on."

Sara looks as if she's about to hyperventilate. Jill reaches into her tote and pulls out a bottle of water, urging Sara to take a drink. It's probably best they don't have a tutoring session timed for after class, because lord knows they need a bit of time to regroup.

I wave goodbye to the girls and start heading for my car, only to be stopped by someone shouting my name. I turn around to see that it's Emmett, so I roll my eyes and keep walking.

"Wait up!" he calls as I reach my car, and before I can get the door unlocked, he's standing beside me. I turn around, letting my annoyance show on my face.

"What can I do for you, perv boy?" I ask, my voice sardonic. His smile remains completely unclouded. I lean back against my door, waiting with arms crossed to see what he has to say for himself.

"What are you doing this fine afternoon, partner?" he asks cheerfully.

"That's none of your business!" I reply, mirroring his tone, and he laughs. It's so strange that he seems completely unaffected by my constant rudeness, and I'm not sure what to make of it.

"Want to do something?" he offers, acting as though I haven't just rejected him.

"Not really, no."

"Look, Netra," he says, his voice uncharacteristically serious, "I think we both know what's going on here."

"And what's that?" I ask, making my flaring irritation abundantly clear.

"You're into me, so you're mean to me," he announces, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. I gape at him, stunned by his idiocy.

"And I also think," he lowers his voice and take a step closer to me, effectively pressing me between his body and my car, "that even though you're in denial now," he leans even closer, so much so that I can smell him, "it's only a matter of time until you realise it." He has one hand on the roof of my car, and the other gives my hip a gentle squeeze to punctuate his words.

I close my eyes for a moment, only to tear them open when he releases me abruptly. I glare at him as the cheerful grin I recognise spreads across his face once more.

"Until then," he says with a happy flourish, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Netra!"

He lopes off, leaving me dazed and irritated with his attitude, and with the way I responded to it. When I finally regain focus, I look out into the parking lot to see Jill and Sara laughing at me. I give them the finger, climb into my car and drive away, turning up my music and trying to work out what the hell just happened.

* * *

**Don't forget to check out the Twilighted thread created by the fabulous FangMom: http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795**


	4. I accidentally came all over your work

**_Welcome back, dear readers. Today we have a special treat for you - our very own McSmutty has been busy correcting our homework, and is generous enough to share his thoughts with you all._**

**_Thanks Natalie, aka vasweetpea, for beta'ing and pimping us._**

**_As always, we don't own any of the Cullen boys. They own us. We do own our little smut baby, though. It is our love child, the offspring of the respect and devotion we feel for each other, and bla bla bla. Yeah, we do love eachother. The voice of McSmutty is brought to you by the fabulous Miss JillM12, but I'm happy to announce that we all have added our personal touches to it!_**

* * *

**I'm sorry, Miss SwedenSara, I accidentally came all over your work. **_By Edward Hawkins_

As the final student leaves the room, I'm finally able to move and make myself more comfortable. My dick is hard, almost painfully so.

The whole time I was reading Sara's work to the class, I was imagining her; her voice, the cute Scandinavian accent, but mostly the visual imagery, Sara tied to a chair, blindfolded, legs spread, with another woman teasing her.

Fuck, I love my job.

I let my hand slide over my crotch, feeling just how hard I am. I want to hold the image of her fantasy and jack off, but it will have to wait until later. I might be a pervert, but I am also a dedicated professional.

The pile of assignments on the desk will not mark themselves.

I pick up the top one and begin to read.

**The Wookie Whacks Off by LeiasLuke**

_Oh, no. This is the strange guy who sits at the front. He's fucking creepy._

_**I may be a Wookie but I'm not a monster, I have feelings. If you cut me do I not bleed?**_

_Dear God, he has the audacity to quote Shakespeare. What can I comment?_

Luke – I wonder if Wookies would  
be familiar with the Complete Works  
of William Shakespeare? Maybe  
reconsider or leave it out altogether.

_Yeah, that will do._

**I lay in my bunk, aboard the Millennium Falcon, thinking about Princess Leia, my ultimate fantasy. Just remembering how she looked in that metal bikini made my dick inflate until it reached its full length of twenty weks, that's around forty-two human centimetres.**

_Forty-two centimetres? Who's he kidding? That would be like... bigger than John Holmes. There is only one John Holmes, and he's not a Wookie. Oh, wait... Is forty-two actually a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy reference? Wouldn't surprise me at all, he's geeky enough. If his next homework turns out to be a cross-over robot slash piece featuring Marvin and C3PO I'll know for sure... C3PO is kind of gay, though. That would be a weird fic to read: "Marvin: I'm depressed. C3PO: Oh dear, is there anything I can do to help? Marvin: You could give me a blow job. C3PO: Well, anything for you, dear. Marvin: No, wait, I don't have a dick. I'm a robot. Now I'm even more depressed. The End." Hmm... I kind of like the idea of an inflating dick, hah. On the other hand, a deflating dick does not sound likeable at all. Okay, there's a grammar correction._

Lay should be laid, you're writing  
in the past tense.

**As my hair-free, waxed palms wrapped around my length, the glands under my skin released their oils, making the wiry fur slick and damp and smooth to touch. It felt so good.**

_Oh fuck, this is making me feel slightly nauseous. How does he think of this stuff? A wiry, furry dick? I'm sure this is not what George Lucas had in mind. Besides, if he waxes his palms, why wouldn't he wax his dick? Geez, what am I saying? Get a grip, Hawkins. Hah! If I do decide to get a grip it won't be to this crap. I could've done it earlier - shit, that fantasy was hot._

_Okay, a comment... think of a comment._

Good use of detail here.

_Sicko!_

**I tried to imagine her hands on me, tiny and soft. I'd have to show her the best pressure points, the ones that got me worked up quickly. I'd teach her how to stroke my dickfur, and maybe how to work me with my favourite metal comb.**

**My fingers splayed, each fingertip pressing hard into the slight indentations around my dickhead. I roared softly.**

_Dickfur? Really? And dickhead? I'm not even going to say. The use of a metal comb - fuck that! The thought makes my eyes water._

**Only an hour; thoughts of my Princess had me at the edge of orgasm quicker than ever before. My dick pulsed and let out its normal dull clicking noise, I could feel countdown approaching; five, four, three, two... I pressed harder... one. Pale yellow spunk issued from each indentation, spraying haphazardly onto my body. I roared as I watched myself, fascinated as the little swimmers wriggled and nestled into the fur. I knew I'd have to clean them away soon, before their sharp tails buried themselves into my skin. I growled as the image of Leia – with pincers in her hands, harvesting my semen, before grooming my fur – flashed across my closed eyelids.**

**One day, I'd make my fantasy reality. One day she would be mine.**

_A clicking dick? Hey, my dick click is sick... Ha! Luke is sick. I guess there's one in every class; I can usually pick them out, just by looking. I wonder how Chewbacca plans on having Leia - like she could really have sex with his furry 42 cm dick... reality check, hellooooo? But, the guy is a fantasist, clearly. Oh my God, he thinks he's Chewbacca. Fuck! Wonder if his dick is hairy? Ewwww._

_A pale, yellow spray with spikey tails... oh, God, save me from this perversion. Grooming, harvesting... Spunk Harvest... it's like that made-up name for that actor kid... Robert... Patterson or something. Geez, now what do I write?_

Very different, Luke. You clearly  
have an eye for detail and a very  
active imagination. Your writing  
style is quite well-developed, I  
look forward to reading one of  
your longer pieces.

_Yeah, right! But, I have to be encouraging and positive. The images I get from this fic makes me want to bleach my eyes out. No, fuck that. I need to bleach my brain. I hope the next piece is less stomach-churning. Still, it's taken care of the hard-on... for now._

I pick up the second document and look at the name. Foxycougar, right. Let's see what she's offering. I need to get an overview of what she's written, so I read it through before commenting. It's very different from Luke's piece, but just as awful in a different way.

**Homework... by Foxycougar**

_Oh, for fuck's sake, she's aspiring to be a writer, she really needs to give her work a title. It's elementary, even a fifth grader would know this._

Always try to title your work to  
engage the reader.

**I was hot and wet and not in the literal sense. My libido is going through the roof and all becuse of my new class.**

_Well, this is a clusterfuck of mistakes, poor use of tenses and vocabulary, even a common spelling error and it's only the first sentence. If she's masturbating, there's every likelihood she's hot and wet... literally... at least I hope so, or she's doing something dramatically wrong. Hah! Maybe I need to offer her some private tuition? No, bad, bad, idea... now, if it was SwedenSara... Hold up there, Hawkins, you are giving HER private tutoring... I wonder how receptive she'd be to a little practical lesson? _Suddenly, the images before my eyes are of Sara, naked and tied to a chair. The tent in my pants is back. I think of Chewbacca and his dickfur and deflate quickly.

Your first two sentences show  
contradiction of tense. As you  
begin, you need to decide whether  
your writing is in the past or the  
present and remain consistent  
throughout. You've missed an  
elementary spelling error – because.  
Please spell-check your work  
before submitting it.

**I was laying naked on my bed rubbing my feminine folds and thinking of my red-hot teacher. His eyes are a shade of deep green, just like emeralds sparkling in sunlight, or something else green. I can feel the pressure of his lips on mine just a little rough before they move down to my neck.**

_Am I supposed to be fucking flattered by this crap? If I had a dollar for every time a student tried to write a poorly disguised attempt to hit on me, I'd be considerably wealthier than I am now. Why doesn't she just write pussy? Feminine folds sounds like something out of bad historical romance, or worse, a "feminine hygiene product." Oh, god, green eyes again – there are other colours in the spectrum, like blue, the colour of Sara's eyes. Mmm, taking off that blindfold and looking into those eyes as she screams my name when I've licked her to orgasm. Holy fuck, I'm such a masochist, I'm gonna have to do something with my little problem. I'll just finish this one script._

Check the verb tense again, see my  
first comment. Reconsider the use of  
euphemisms like "feminine folds," unless  
you're writing a period piece where  
more delicate language is required.  
Your comma usage is incorrect. I have  
a factsheet on punctuation which I'll  
bring along to the next session. It  
might also help your writing if you  
were to acquire a book on grammar  
and style – all authors use them.

I'm in a hurry to get back to my office, so I look at the next paragraph.

**He bit me and sucked on my neck like a vampire and I cried out in the agony and ecstasy of the moment!**

**I dip my fingers deep into my slit and wiggle them around a bit feeling my breathing hitch as I do. I wonder if Professor Edwards has a big member? I'd love to have the chance to find out. I wiggle my fingers a bit faster before removing them and rubbing the slick wetness of my inner juices over my throbbing swollen aching clit.**

_Ah, yes, the vampire bites, I suppose I should've expected it. Bet he's got a sparkly dick, too. Professor Edwards... obvious, much? So she's wondering about my dick, is she? Well, hell will freeze over before she finds out anything about that. It is all cliche and euphemism, this whole piece. She's trying to turn me on and only succeeding in doing the opposite. I wonder if I dare write "this is cliched shit," all over the page? No, maybe not._

Once again, watch the tense.  
You seem to make heavy use  
of euphemism - again, you need  
to be consistent - decide on a  
style and stick with it... folds and  
members don't fit with slits and clits.

_Ha! That was almost funny - nearly poetic. Maybe I should write every comment in rhyme. That would make this a lot funnier._

**Mmmm, I imagined him whispering into my ear, 'I want you! I'm going to fuck you so hard!'**

**My breath hitched and I sped up with my fingers feeling the delicious tingling in my clit increase exponentially with each pass of my slick fingers.**

'**Oh Professor' I purr. 'Only you can do this to me.'**

**Now it isn't my fingers touching me it is his. They are long and talented.**

_I'm fucking bored with this. It's not clever, it's not original, it's not even funny. She's purring? I think not, fucking cougars don't purr - they scratch and bite._

The use of language is colourful,  
but incongruous - it doesn't fit.  
You need to revise the use of  
direct speech.

_Lord give me the strength to stay professional and finish marking. I'd much rather be relaxing in my office - okay, for relaxing, read jacking off._

**I rubbed in little circles increasing the pressure and I felt the feeling begin to build in the pit of my stomach. When I came I knew it would be a massive release all because of him.**

'**Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Oh yes... yes... yes professor touch me there and make me cum.'**

**I shake with excitement as I reach my peak and cry out. I cannot wait for next class.**

_Enough of this. I need to read something more... stimulating..._

Many things to think about here.  
Suggest you begin by working on  
verb tense and punctuation. We  
can talk a little in the next class.  
Meanwhile, consider investing in  
a style guide.

Thank God that's over. I'm cringing as I collect up the assignments from my desk. My next activity requires the privacy of my office and a locked door.

As I tidy the pile of assignments, I look down and the title on the top page. "Not fucking silly" by SwedenSara. My mind - and my dick - perks up, and I walk, somewhat tentatively, back to my room. I enter my office and lock the door behind me.

I sit, leaning back in my chair, getting comfortable and making sure I have the requisite Kleenex on hand.

I run my hand over the front of my pants, palming my cock, enjoying the sensation of it hardening against the zipper. I'm not a masochist, but I do rather enjoy the feeling of it, straining... growing... wanting.

Reading that assignment aloud in class was just... mind-blowing. I know it's kind of an occupational hazard, but, fuck me, it's not often I have to sit down to hide my boner.

I squeeze slightly, feeling the blood pumping, the pressure against my pants increasing.

I reach for the paper on top of the pile of assignments.

"**Not fucking silly" By SwedenSara**

**He slowly walked around her, watching her from every angle. She was beautiful. He covered her eyes with a black silk scarf and tied it tightly behind her head. His hands trailed the soft curve of her waist down to her hips, revelling in the feeling of her velvety skin under his touch.**

_God, I'd love to do that. Soft, velvety skin. Curves. I fucking love curves._ I shift in my chair, grinding into my own hand to find friction. _Shit - the thought of her, on the edge of the seat, open, wet and willing._ I palm myself harder, reading on.

**She belonged to him. These naked gorgeous hips should be seen by him, only him. No other man had the right to touch them like this, to feel the soft skin. To think that other men was dreaming of doing exactly this to her, was more than he could stand. She had told him she thought he was being silly. **_**Silly!**_** He pursed his lips, snarling. How could she not see what they were after? Was she really that unaware of how alluring she could be? A small smile played on her lips. Was she smirking at him? She was smirking at him!**

**He wanted to wipe that smile of her face. She thought he was silly. Well, he wasn't, and he needed to show her who she belonged with, who she belonged to. He wanted to possess her so badly. He pushed her onto the bed and moved down her body, teasing and nibbling her skin. She moaned and lifted her hips, feeling the frantic need in his body and mirroring it with her own. He slid down between her parted legs and slowly licked her wet pussy, massaged her folds with his tongue. Her cries got louder as he slid two fingers inside of her, curled them and pressed that sweet spot inside.**

_Hell, yeah, I'm frantic with fucking need._ I pop the button on my pants and slide the zipper down; it feels so good. I love to lick pussy, and to tonguefuck... I'd make her moan and whimper. I drag the waist of my underpants down, exposing my cock to the cool air in the office; I imagine she is blowing on it, across the wet tip. I watch, fascinated, as a drop of pre-cum leaks from the slit. I slide my fingers over it, then suck them, tasting myself. I can almost feel the heat of her mouth as her lips wrap around my girth. I want to thrust; to fuck her mouth and have her swallow my juices. I'm getting close, and finding it increasingly harder to focus on her text.

**It made him feel invincible. Only he should make her feel like this, and he was going to make sure she never forgot that. He nibbled and sucked her swollen clitoris until she came in a long quivering orgasm. As she screamed his name he felt the high rush through his body, the euphoria that stemmed from knowing that this was his doing. He made her feel this way. She was his.**

I would make sure she never forgot. I'd give her the orgasm of her life, and then do it all over again. I wrap my hand around my aching dick and begin to thrust, squeezing a little harder as I pass over the tip. My fingers and her lips. Her hands all over me. My hands squeezing her tits, my mouth at her nipples...

My orgasm takes me by surprise and I shoot off over my desk, narrowly missing the pile of assignments, but catching the bottom of Sara's page.

_Fuck! _I grab a Kleenex and wipe it away quickly. I'm relieved it didn't make the type smudge, God knows how I'd ever have explained that one... _"I'm so sorry, Miss SwedenSara, I accidentally came all over your work."_ Maybe not!

I clean up as best I can. I'm much more relaxed now, and can begin to think rationally once again. I still have to correct Sara's assignment. _Shit! I _should have thought of that before I used it as "stimulation."

_Now, what to write?_

Very powerful imagery, with reasonable  
use of repetition to reinforce your main  
idea; clearly, this is a piece about  
possession. Very few grammatical errors,  
although in Line 7 - amend was to were -  
men is a plural.

A thought to consider for future writing:  
men are, by habit, more visual creatures.  
You could have made more of the visual  
stimuli, particularly given his use of a  
blindfold on her. Also, there are occasions  
where a change of word order would  
improve the fluidity of your work e.g.  
'these naked gorgeous hips' would read  
better as 'gorgeous naked hips'.

You've made a positive start.  
Well done.

I shake my head to clear it, take a large mouthful of water from the bottle on my desk, then pick the next paper up from the pile. When I see Emmett's name on the top, I immediately brace myself for disappointment. I've always had one guy in my class, thinking that it would be a chance to perv on women's fantasies and get some jerking material. The guy who was just trying to surround himself with horny women, and usually dropped out when he realized just how wrong he was.

I have a feeling Emmett is that guy.

I pick up his manuscript and begin to read.

**Morning Woods by Emmett Hardwicke**

**She emerged from the tent wearing one of his shirts and a pair of black cotton panties, and then slipped her feet into his hiking boots, even though they were far too big for her. She bent over to get herself some coffee, exposing what seemed like miles of long creamy legs, and he was transfixed.**

_Well, I'm pleasantly surprised. It's well written and he uses observational skills well._

**She turned around to see him ogling her shamelessly, and gave a sweet smile in return.**

**"Good morning, baby," she greeted him cheerfully. He simply smiled in response.**

**"So what are we doing to - Ah!" she cried as he lunged across the small campsite and swung her up into his arms. He kissed her, taking advantage of her gasp to push his tongue between her lips. She giggled, immediately catching onto his designs, and wrapped her long legs around his waist. He walked them backwards until her back gently bumped into a large redwood on the edge of their campsite.**

_Who would've thought Emmett was capable of this kind of subtle imagination? I think I was probably expecting a more pornographic piece._

**She reached down and started tugging at his sweatpants, freeing him from the cotton constraint before wrapping her little hand around his length and stroking me firmly. He buried my face in her mahogany curls, kissing and nipping at her neck only to be encouraged by her moans. **

_Damn it - a couple of elementary errors. He obviously wrote in the first person and has decided to revise to the third. He hasn't quite caught all of the changes. Shame._

**"Please… now," she begged. He reached down and yanked her panties to the side so that he could touch her bare pussy. He was thrilled to find that she was already ready for him, her skin slick with the proof of her excitement and need, so he shifted her small body in his arms to better align them, and then she guided him into her.**

**"Ohhh fuck," he grunted, relishing the sensation that was so familiar and yet so electrifying. She dropped her head to his shoulder as he set a steady pace, rocking himself into her.**

**"Please, please, fuck it's so…" she trailed off, her voice rising in pitch as she neared her release. He took hold of one of her hands, guiding it down between them. She caught the hint and started rubbing herself.**

_Naughty - I like it. Might have to store that visual image in my private collection._

**"Come on, baby," he urged, "let it go, show me how good it is…"**

**"Oh… oh my god, I'm - unghhh!" she cried out into the empty forest around them, and he followed moments later with his own release.**

**Never had he been more grateful for the secluded trail he'd picked for that weekend's hike.**

I am somewhat surprised by Emmett's work, perhaps I underestimated him. I write his comment.

Very well written, Emmett. I particularly  
liked your use of detailed description.  
Be aware of a couple of errors in  
paragraph 2, where you've changed  
from first to third person. Otherwise,  
good job.

I correct a few more scripts and I'm getting bored at the same old repetitive clichés. _Still, this is why these people are taking my class; they want to improve... don't they?_

In most cases there is _lots_ of room for improvement.

I snatch up the next paper, grateful that I'd asked my students to turn in more than one piece – there's only so much masturbation a man can read about in one sitting.

**Play with me by JillM12**

_Interesting title. I hope it's not another offer. Jasper would kill me, he seems instantly taken with her. He'd be disappointed if she was hitting on me. _

Interesting title - makes me want to  
read further.

"**B-O-R-E-D." Bella spelled out the word before laying the tiles on the playing square. **

"**That'll be eight points and a double word score, so sixteen please."**

**Edward noted the score. "Seriously, Bella, fucking Scrabble? I can think of other games we could play."**

I_ still get uncomfortable with seeing my name used so much, I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. At least she's made it clear she's working in her fandom. Unlike Miss Foxycougar. Her blatant attempts at flirting makes my balls shrivel up and climb back up into my body._

"**Just play your tiles, Cullen."**

**Edward thought for a moment before placing the letters I-C-K after the letter D.**

**Bella chewed her lip and Edward groaned. She knew how much that small gesture turned him on.**

**Adding S-U-K to the C, she smiled from under long eyelashes. Edward shifted uncomfortably.**

**His brain began to race. **_**Two can play at that little game.**_** He added L-U-E to the B, and watched as Bella's brown eyes widened.**

_Okay, I like where this is going. It's different and somewhat playful. I might like to play this game of Scrabble myself. Wonder if SwedenSara needs help with her English spellings, too?_

"**F-I-N-G-E-R." Bella added the tiles, and smirked.**

**Edward realised what she was doing, teasing him, trying to stretch his control. It was working.**

"**F-U-C-K." He added the letters.**

"**A-S-S." She grinned.**

_Oh, yes. A little bit of kinkiness. This is good smut. I hope she takes it to its natural conclusion. I like that they are comfortable enough with one another to have fun with the ideas._

"**Please," she whispered seductively, as she launched herself over the board, not caring that the tiles scattered over the floor. "Play with me, Edward?"**

_Oh, I love a self-confident assertive woman, who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it. She's packing a lot of action into a limited number of words._

I think your portrayal of self-confidence  
is good, although you could make her  
even more assertive. Have you ever  
considered writing Bella as a sexual  
predator? It is good to broaden your  
writing horizons.

_I'd certainly get off on reading that!_

**He didn't need asking twice; this was an opportunity for a fantasy come true. He began to spell out words.**

"**S-T-R-I-P N-O-W."**

**She revealed her body, inch by delicious inch, and spelled out:**

"**L-I-C-K M-E"**

**He spoke again.**

_Ah, a mistake._

Did he speak? Or write? Or spell out?  
I think you need a little clarification  
here - it could be confusing to the  
reader.

"**T-O-U-C-H Y-O-U-R-S-E-L-F."**

**Laying amongst the discarded tiles, Bella spread herself and ran her hand over her flat stomach, down to the apex of her thighs. She heard Edward's breathing deepen.**

_I know I said I was fed up of reading about masturbation, but this is fucking hot. The mental image is strong. Sara spread amongst the discarded tiles, touching herself. Holy shit, I'm hard again. I'm not usually this fixated on a student._

Very strong use of imagery.

"**D-O I-T," she hissed out.**

**She used her left hand to spread her lips, and her right to touch her clit. Seeing her writhe in ecstasy was too much.**

_Does she need to say which lips? No, this is smut; surely readers will realise it's her pussy lips she's talking about. Mm, I'm finding it very hard to be objective right now._

"**Fuck!"**

**Edward couldn't stop himself. He bent forwards, attacking her pussy with his mouth, before sucking his pinky finger and gently pushing it into her tight ass.**

_Geez, I'm gonna need to jerk off again now, what is the matter with me today? I'm not usually this horny, I'm behaving like a fucking kid. Reading that story aloud in class has me all worked up. Thank God, we hadn't arranged a tutorial today; it would've taken all my self control to keep from jumping her. Oh fuck! Ravaging her across my desk... spreading her... stop! Stop! Think Star Wars. Think grooming sperm. Think Foxycougar. Okay, problem solved... for now._

**Bella groaned as she climaxed.**

"**You win, Edward," she gasped. She'd never think of Scrabble in the same way again.**

_Nor will I!_

Very well written and a good choice  
of subject matter. May I suggest you  
try to challenge yourself more by taking  
on more extended pieces. I'm going to  
pass your work to Doctor Withbone and  
ask him to contact you regarding some  
advanced tutoring - this is his specialist  
field. I know he is looking for a student  
to help reference his thesis and I think  
your work might fit the bill.

_Well, that ought to keep Jasper happy, he'll really get off on this story, not to mention getting to work with his new favourite student. You owe me, Withbone, you owe me._

* * *

**Don't forget to check out the Twilighted thread created by the fabulous FangMom: http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795**


	5. Spunkgate

_**Hello again, dear readers! We're back, with another chapter of this smutty, yet educational, little fic. Thanks to Jill and Netra for helping me getting this chapter done - I was in a not-so-funny mood when I got started, and needed their warped minds to get myself down in the gutter where I belong. **_

_**Thanks to vasweetpea for beta'ing for us, and to FangMom for creating our very own Twilighted Thread! http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)?f=46&p=1072796#p1072795 Those of you who have been over there are already familiar with one particular part of this chapter. *cough*spunk*cough***_

**_Do you have a question for our pretty professors? Email them at smutprofessors(at)gmail(dot)com and get your answers on the Twi thread!_**

_**Again, we don't own the Cullen boys. We do have some fun with them! Now, I have homework to get back from McSmutty...**_

* * *

_**Spunkgate **__by SwedenSara_

**From:** Prof. Edward Hawkins  
**To:** SwedenSara  
**Subject:** New time for tutoring

I'd like to schedule a new tutoring session.  
I have a writing exercise that I think could  
be helpful for you. Please let me know when  
you'll be available.

Glad to see you used your personal fantasy in  
class last week. It turned out well, I think.

Edward Hawkins.

x.x.x

I stare at the email and swallow audibly. Not only does he remember our discussion about my fantasy, he wants to know when I'm available.

_I'm available any time, any day, McSmutty._

I lose myself in less than appropriate fantasies of our next tutoring session, and let's just say that they don't include writing of any kind. Exercises, yes. Writing? No, not so much.

_Shit, I need to collect myself here. It's not like he has any ulterior motives for tutoring me. He just feels sorry for me, that's all. Yeah._

My brain is pouring out pictures of McSmutty at his desk, correcting our homework, reading about the things I'd like him to do.

_Get a grip, for fuck's sake!_

_I'd like him to show me just how sorry he feels for me._

_WHAT! _

I slam my head against my desk in frustration. I cannot believe how stupid and juvenile I'm acting. I'm like a hormone ridden teen on ecstasy with a crush on her teacher. My vagina has apparently hijacked my brain.

I type a quick reply.

**From:** SwedenSara  
**To:** Prof. Edward Hawkins  
**Subject:** Re: New time for tutoring

I'm always available for you, and I assure  
you I'll write whatever you want. Just say  
the words and I'll come.

_What am I writing? Delete that._

I can tell you about another fantasy of mine.  
Maybe I can write about that? It includes  
your office, my mouth and a hard-on.

_What's wrong with me? DELETE! I need to focus here. _

I'm sorry but I won't be able to stay after class  
next time, I'm going out with some friends.  
I'm free the entire day after. I can be free almost  
any time to fit in with your schedule, though I'd  
prefer a later appointment.

SwedenSara

I reread my email a couple of times, to make sure no inappropriate suggestions have tricked their way into it again. I've suggested a later appointment because I'm going out with the girls. I may need recovery time if it all gets messy. I'd prefer to meet with McSmutty after an attempt to look presentable and at least six cups of coffee. I check once more, just to be sure, and it seems fine to me, so I send it.

The next class is an afternoon one. I meet Netra and Jill at the coffee place to plan our evening. We decide which bar to visit then head for class. McSmutty is already in place and Doctor Withbone is sitting at the front. I'm sure I see them smirk at each other as we pass by.

"Good afternoon everybody! Class this week is about how to use all your senses in descriptive writing. I will present you with a writing technique, or a scheme if you will, and provide you with a picture. Your task is to apply this scheme as you look at the picture, and then use it in a paragraph. It does not have to involve sexual activity, since this is merely about learning how to master a writing technique. The image I've chosen is not depicting sexual activities of any kind, so for those of you who wished for porn, I'm sorry to disappoint you."

Emmett grins sheepishly.

McSmutty bends down to plug in the computer cord, and I totally lean to the side to get a better view of that mighty fine piece of man-ass.

_Oooh… low cut pants are good when they bend over like that. Just a little more… Houston, we have skin showing._

And then I fall off the chair. Of course. I curse and try to get up again before he notices, which I fail at miserably because, well, because I'm me. The entire classroom explodes with giggles, and most of them are more of the scornful kind than the friendly. Jill helps me up and glares at the rest of the group. Netra and Emmett know exactly why I fell off the chair, and are nearly crying from laughter. I glance at Edward, who cocks his eyebrow at me and smirks as he fires up the computer.

_Shit. I'm so busted._

"Jasper, will you please show them the picture?" Jasper reaches for the remote control and pulls up an image on the big screen.

"Now, tell me what you see in this picture." He looks out over the crowd, choosing between the hands that are waving frenetically in the air.

_Oh. My. God. The ladies in here are seriously pathetic. Wanting to be teachers pet, or rather, wanting to be petted by the teacher. Wait. That sounds like me, doesn't it?. _

"Yes, Ms Foxycougar? Would you like to answer?" Edward nods at the lady in the front seat.

"Of course, professor, with pleasure… I see a forest!" Foxycougar bats her eyelashes and answers in a sultry voice. Netra puffs out her cheeks, pretending she's just vomited in her mouth, and I try to suppress the laughter that threatens to erupt.

I'm beginning to really dislike Foxycougar and her flagrant attempts to seduce McSmutty. I overheard her talking about the homework she handed in, and I cannot believe how she can do such a thing without being embarrassed. She was confident that her little tale of self-pleasing while thinking of Edward would turn him on. I seriously doubt that, though.

Edward clears his throat, and I think I hear amusement somewhere under the professionalism in his voice.

"Exactly. I suspected someone would say that, stating the obvious, it's instinctive. But, instead of just saying 'I see a forest', using all five senses when describing it will provide a far more emotive experience for the reader. What do you see, feel, smell, hear and taste? Most people describe things just using a noun and it's perfectly clear, 'I see a forest'. There are better ways of writing, though. The key is to combine adjectives and verbs with the nouns, to add other senses to the visuals."

Withbone interrupts.

"Just to add, if I may, beware of overdoing it. The key here is balance. Enough description to fire up the imagination, without providing so much information that the scene becomes too complicated and therefore inaccessible."

"Good point, thank you, Jasper. Now, put yourself in this picture and make a list of the things you experience. We'll list everyone's initial ideas on the whiteboard. You will then use whatever you want from the list to write a paragraph of at least 200 words describing your... wood." He smirks at his word usage and Emmett snorts loudly. "Remember that the usage of similes and metaphors can be very powerful. You have 10 minutes to compile your list and 30 minutes to write your paragraph."

Silence descends upon the room as everybody sets to work, and, as people go to the front and add their ideas, the list on the whiteboard grows quickly. The descriptions vary in quality, some are great, quite a lot are dreadful. The rest of the class passes by in a rush, and I am almost – but not entirely – happy with my paragraph as Edward announces the lesson is over. He has our homework with him, and Jasper is ready to hand them to us when we exit the room. The dragonflies in my belly make an appearance again, and I'm nervous as shit to get my homework back. I have always been sensitive to criticism, and it doesn't take much to make me feel like a failure. I feel a blush slowly creeping over my chest, spreading up my throat and face. I curse inwardly for being such a sissy. I hate that I blush so easily, it's so embarrassing.

I hear Edward ask Foxycougar to stay for a minute, and I walk as slowly as possible, trying to hear what they say. Foxycougar grins like a bitch in heat as she saunters over to Edward. She's swaying her broad hips in a way that is clearly meant to be flirtatious, but she ends up looking like an old beamed ship trying to sail a stormy ocean. Watching that makes me sea sick.

Edward hands her a folder with papers, telling her it's something he feels could be helpful to her, and turns his back on her. The look on her face is priceless.

_Thank god. For a minute there, I thought he was going to offer her tutoring, as well. _

I turn to the exit just in time to notice Jill getting her paper back from Jasper. He leans in to her and says something, and her face turns white as a sheet. She swallows a few times and stammers something in response before she stumbles out of the room.

_What the hell was that about? And what's up with Withbone's silly smile? Is he… Is he checking her out? He totally is! He's checking out her ass! Bad, bad Withbone… _

I follow the line towards the door, and grab my paper from Jasper without looking at it. Netra and Jill are waiting impatiently for me outside. Netra seems to be in need of a cigarette, and Jill looks like she's about to burst from excitement. She is blushing like a little school girl, and I snicker at her.

"Come on ladies, I need to buy some smokes before we hit the bar." Netra fiddles with her bag, trying to find her wallet.

"Are we going right now? Because I can use a drink or two before I look at my homework. I'm actually scared," I admit, chewing my fingernails.

Netra hurries to the store across the street, and while we wait for her Emmett shows up.

"So, rumour has it that we're having a girl's night out! You didn't plan to leave without me, did you?" he asks, pressing his hand to his heart as he feigns offence. Netra dashes back across the road, only to stop short when she notices the third person standing with us. She glares at him.

"Er, girls only, douche. I'm pretty sure I didn't successfully neuter you last time."

"Well, I'm in touch with my feminine side. Besides, you could use me as your wing-man. A group of girls is much more interesting to the boys if they have at least one male with them. Makes it more of a challenge you know, to snatch you away from my protective arms." He punches his chest like the gorilla he is.

"Whatever." She shrugs. "First two rounds are on you." With that, she walks off, and we follow behind until we arrive at the nearest bar. It's a cute little place, apparently owned by an English couple who've gone to great lengths to style it like the pubs back home, and we quickly locate ourselves a booth.

"So what am I getting you ladies, this evening?" Emmett asks.

"Oh, you don't have to -" Jill starts, but Netra cuts her off with a raised hand.

"Yes, he does. Vodka, soda and lime for me," she instructs him, then looks at us questioningly.

"Beer for me," I offer, and Jill asks for a white wine spritz. Emmett saunters over to the bar, and Netra and I take the opportunity to corner Jill.

"So, what happened with you and Dr Withbone today?" I ask, and she is suddenly fascinated by the hem of her sleeve.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbles.

"I do," Netra chips in, "she's talking about the brief exchange with him that left you blushing like a school girl and tripping over your shoes," she says with a laugh. Jill sighs deeply.

"Fine, I'll tell you. He said -"

"Did I miss anything sexy?" Emmett crows as he sits back down at the table. Netra covers her face with her palm and groans.

"You have to ruin everything, don't you? We were talking," she chides him, "and you picked the worst possible moment to intrude."

"Whatever, you love me," he says casually before his expression shifts to a more conspiratorial one. He leans over the table, gesturing for us to do the same. "Look over there," Emmett whispers, tilting his head towards the bar. I raise my eyes, and see Doctor Withbone. He's not alone. A gorgeous and very familiar man-ass is standing beside him. Well, not just the ass. It has a body attached to it as well, and what a body. There is something special about low-cut jeans and a simple, white, v-cut tee on a well built man. I swallow audibly. If McSmutty's going to be here tonight, I'll need a lot more beer.

_Or maybe that's a bad idea?_

"So… How do you like the visuals?" Emmett wiggles his eyebrows at me. He is going to give me such a hard time tonight. I need to shut him up somehow.

"The visuals from where I'm sitting are fine, thank you very much." I purse my mouth.

"And if you add your other senses, can you tell me more about those visuals?" He lowers his voice, mimicking Edward's speech in class earlier in the day.

"Shut up, please." I sigh.

"Do they make you feel… good? Maybe even a bit… excited?" he moans, deliberately loud. I snort at him.

"Fuck you Emmett. As long as my visuals don't contain the sight, sound, smell or taste of you, I'm a happy girl."

Netra snickers and high-fives me across the table. Emmett looks almost hurt for a fraction of a second, before he leans towards me and answers in a seductive voice.

"So, you wouldn't mind feeling me, then?"

Our entire table falls apart, laughing. He's annoying but entertaining, I'll have to give him that.

"So, let's see what Sexface had to say about our homework, shall we?" Netra brings us back to business.

"Okay, I'll go first." Emmett brings his paper out, reads it carefully and breaks into a huge grin.

"He's impressed with me! Who's the king now, huh? Huh?" Netra pinches his arm and he rubs it, wincing with pain.

She throws her homework on the table, and we lean in over it, reading her comments and comparing them to Emmett's. I smile when I see Edward's handwriting. It's beautiful, flowing and sophisticated. I stroke my fingertips gently over the paper, following the lines. I haven't looked at my paper yet, because I'm lame like that, but I know I have the same handwriting on my paper, too. It makes me so giddy, it's embarrassing.

_I'm actually squeeing inside over a guy's handwriting. What am I, thirteen? I need help._

Jill blushes slightly as she shows us her paper.

"He's talked to Doctor Withbone, who is going to give me advanced tutoring…"

"Wohooo, Jill's gonna get some!" Emmett bellows, and rubs his hands together excitedly. Jill glances at the bar, apparently nervous that he overheard. McSmutty and DocBoner seem to be very deep in conversation, and she relaxes minutely.

Netra leans back with her arms crossed, and an expectant look on her face.

"Okay, teacher's pet. It's your turn. Show us."

I have dreaded this the entire evening. What if he thinks it sucks, and not in a good way? I take my homework, put it on the table, and read.

_What the fuck… what is wrong with his handwriting? Why didn't I get beautiful letters? These are… ugly. It's just scribbled down, harshly, ragged… Why?_

"Dude… His writing is fucked up on this one," Emmett states.

"No shit, Sherlock… I can hardly read it! Why did he write so damned sloppy?" I hold the paper close, trying to figure it out, and notice something on the bottom of the page.

"What's that dried, starchy stuff on the bottom? There's a smudge here. Did he spill something on my homework? It doesn't look like coffee or something, it's all… white-ish." Emmett and Netra snatch it from me and examine it closely.

Emmet holds it up to his face, studying it intently, and then bursts into loud guffaws.

"I know what that is!" He manages to get a few words through between the fits of laughter.

"That's… that's…" He shakes his head, unable to speak, with tears rolling down his cheeks. Netra looks at the paper, narrowing her eyes, and a wide grin spreads across her face. Emmet is panting by now, trying desperately to catch his breath.

"There's no way..." she murmurs, sounding a little dazed, before looking over to Emmett. He nods, and she joins him in laughter. They're hysterical, and my confusion only gets worse as they continue to laugh.

"I think the good professor gave you an A on this homework," Emmett breathes, his voice hoarse from the force of his laughter. Netra is yet to compose herself, and his joke only makes her worse. Her face drops to his shoulder as she tries to calm herself.

"What? I don't get it!"

"You're right, this is not coffee. This… is spunk."

I look over at Jill, completely horrified. She picks up the paper and starts looking at the evidence herself before she begins chuckling along with the others.

"It is not!" I cry. "It couldn't be!"

Netra turns around and points at Edward by the bar.

"It's totally spunk! His spunk! Professor Perv wanked on your work!"

I stare at them, shaking my head in disbelief.

_I don't know what to do with this information. He jacked off while reading my homework? What kind of perv is he? _

_On the other hand... That must mean he actually enjoyed it, right? He probably didn't do it on Foxycougar's paper. At least I hope not._

A strange feeling of pride spreads through my body. He wanked on my work, and I'm proud! I'm also suddenly a bit jealous. Does he do that to others, too? I want him to masturbate to my work, and my work only.

_I'm seriously sick._

Emmett gets up to buy the next round, and Netra, with a strange glint in her eyes, offers to help him with the drink orders. I watch in abject horror as she walks up to the bar and straight over to Edward and Dr Withbone, a charming smile on her face. Thirty seconds later she turns around and starts walking back to our table... and they follow.

_Oh no... she didn't... Holy crap, what am I going to do now?_

I think I'm going to throw up. I put my homework away, and concentrate on the bottle of beer in front of me. I carefully peel the sticker off, piece by piece, pretending to not notice the sexy man who's spunk is now on a paper in my bag. Netra's smile is sweet, but her eyes are full of mischief. I think I might murder her, and judging by Jill's expression, she'd probably help me hide the body.

"Look who I bumped into at the bar! Our two favorite professors!" she says, gesturing to the two men standing behind her. Her voice is laced with innocence, and I'm sorely tempted to kick her in the shins. "Of course, I offered to let them come hang out with us, and what do you know, they said yes!"

"Is that okay with everybody?" Edward asks, sounding uncharacteristically insecure.

"Of course you can," Emmett assures him, "I could use some help in diluting all the estrogen around this table."

Netra discretely nudges Jill, and she stands, allowing Netra and Emmett into the booth between her and myself. This also means that there are only two available seats at our booth, one beside Jill, and one beside me. Jasper sits next to Jill and my breath hitches as Edward's body slides down next to mine. His leg is flush against mine, and the warmth emanating from it makes my thigh burn. I should move my leg, but I can't. I don't want to, either. I keep fiddling with my bottle, shredding the beer sticker into small pieces. My eyes dart to his hands, and I swallow as I watch his long fingers close around his bottle. He puts it to his mouth, wraps his lips around the top, and takes a few gulps of beer. His Adam's Apple bobs every time he swallows, and I notice he has a slight stubble.

_No time to shave this morning, I see. Late night yesterday, huh? Lots of homework to read? Lots of papers to soil? God I want to lick that neck._

His tilts his head and watches my fingers peel the paper off the bottle.

"You know what they say about that?" He motions to my hand.

"Er... no," I reply. _Say about what? Bottles, fingers, hand jobs? Nooo... did I just think that? Thank god my verbal filter is still intact. My vagina seems to have a direct line to my brain noadays._

"Peeling the paper off bottles is supposed to be a sign of sexual frustration..." His voice trails off, and I turn to look at him.

_Is he talking about sexual frustration? The nerve of some people... What the hell am I supposed to say to that? "Yes I am, I want to hump you so badly right now. How about a trip to the ladies room, I hear they have really robust vanities in here." Bad idea. I totally want to do that._

"Oh. That's just... Really? Well... I'm not, so-" I stammer, blushing like a virgin on a nudist beach. My verbal filter seems to be well in place, since I'm no longer able to form one coherent sentence.

"Bullshit," Emmett coughs, doing an abhorrent job of disguising the word. I shoot him a glare just as Netra reaches out to bump her fist against his, and I find myself longing for the days when they hated each other.

A moment of strained silence passes between the six of us. I can't focus on anything other than Edward's proximity to me, and it seems to be rendering me unable to make conversation or behave like a functional human being. Jill looks like she wants to die, and Jasper looks like he isn't faring a lot better. Emmett is looking around table gleefully, seeming to be taking pleasure in our discomfort.

"Well," Netra says abruptly, getting our attention, "this is a lot more awkward than I had anticipated it being. Let's do something fun."

We all look at her expectantly, and she shrugs.

"What? Why don't you guys come up with something?"

"How about we play..." Emmett pauses thoughtfully, "'Kill, Fuck, Marry?' Using the people the table of course."

I nearly spit out the mouthful of beer I've just taken. I know, beyond a doubt, that if given the option, I would kill Emmett. Hell, I think everyone at the table knows that I'd do that. But there is no way any of us will be able to get out of answering without embarrassing ourselves.

"I don't think so," Jill says sternly, beating me to the punch. I knew there was a reason we were such good friends. Emmett frowns dramatically, but doesn't push it further, so I relax slightly.

"I think..." Netra pauses, a glint in her eye, before carrying on, "we need to get to know one another a little better."

Emmett nods affirmingly.

"And there's nothing like a little game of truth or dare to get to know people."

"Hell yeah." Emmett raises his hand and they bump fists. It worries me to see them in cahoots like this, I _definitely_ liked it better when they hated each other.

"So," Netra says, looking across the booth to Jasper, "truth or dare, Professor?"

He hesitates. "Umm, truth, I think."

"Is it true that you're in a band?"

I don't know where Netra gets her information from, but Withbone's eyes light up.

"It surely is. We met in college and we've been playing together ever since. Okay, my turn. Sara, truth or dare?"

"Truth." I don't hesitate on this one.

"Hmm, I've heard a rumour. Is it true that you described, in detail and in person, to our illustrious Professor here, a very personal sexual fantasy?"

They say that the quiet ones are always the worst, and looking at the smirk on Withbone's face I can quite believe it. This game is going to be painfully embarrassing. The fact that Edward actually told him about this is mortifying. I glare at Edward, and notice him trying to kick Jasper under the table.

"Yes," I mutter, "but it was part of my private tutoring."

"I'll bet it was." Sometimes I wish Emmett would keep his opinions to himself. I see McSmutty from the corner of my eyes. He's downed the rest of his bottle of beer.

"More drinks?" He stands up and nods to Withbone, gesturing him towards the bar.

While they are gone, I take the opportunity to tell Netra and Emmett exactly what I think of their little plot. I am not impressed and neither is Jill, and this seems to make them even more gleeful about things. I'm not seriously complaining about being squashed beside McSmutty, though. His firm thigh pressed against my own is turning my brain into an addled mush of sexual fantasy. _Maybe he was right about the label shredding?_ The problem is, I have to hold myself together for the rest of the evening, and keep myself from jumping his bones right there in the booth. That will not be easy.

After our third round of drinks everyone has mellowed a little. The truth questions have progressed from the relatively polite to the slightly dirty, and we now know that Withbone has a thing for English girls, Emmett has a Masters Degree in English and a porn collection worthy of its own library, Netra is a giant music snob who is always late to class because she 'prefers to make use of the night hours', Jill is attracted by eyes and smiles and Professor Sexface is an ass man. Me? I admitted to being a boob girl. I swear McSmutty's eyes lit up at that comment.

"All this truth is boring, man." Emmett tosses back a tequila shot and slams his empty glass onto the table. "Time to liven things up a bit, I think. It's all dare from now on."

"Not _all _dares," Netra says. "I think there are still some pretty interesting truths just waiting to be discovered."

She turns and blatantly winks right at me. I glare at her and shake my head, hoping Edward hasn't noticed.

"Okay," says Emmett. "Professor Hawkins, you up for a dare?"

Edward looks nervous. He takes a swig from his beer and nods, his face resigned.

"I dare you, next lesson, in class, to flirt with Miss Foxycougar."

Netra, Jill and I burst out laughing and even Withbone joins in.

The colour drains from Edwards face.

"You can't be serious? She'll believe me... maybe even eat me alive."

"Better make it believable, dude. A dare's a dare after all." Jasper is grinning as he enjoys his friends discomfort. I'm feeling a little sorry for him. I don't want him to flirt with that Cougar woman. That was a sucky dare, in my opinion.

"What's the forfeit if I don't do it?"

Netra is lightning sharp with a response. "You have to take Foxy out for a dinner date."

"Hell no, I'll take the dare," he says with a sigh. Everyone laughs.

"I have one," says Jill. "Netra, I dare you to sit on Emmett's lap for the rest of the evening."

"Why am I not surprised," she sighs, pushing the table in the booth a little further away and hopping onto Em's lap. I watch as she gets comfortable, deliberately wriggling before she settles.

_What a little tease... I love it! Looks like someone is going to have a pair of blue-balls to attend to as he gets home tonight. _From the look on Emmett's face I'd say he is enjoying it.

We get another round of drinks. By now, we've all moved onto shots and although we're not drunk, we're well on the way.

"My turn, my turn." Sexface is grinning. I like it when he grins, it's kind of cheeky but sexy. "Jasper - I dare you to teach a session on self-love and you have to ask for a volunteer to demonstrate practically."

"I thought you had that one covered," Jasper says with a slight glare. Wow, that accent is just great.

"And now, you do," he shoots back with a cheeky smile.

The mention of self-pleasing and things being covered sends my mind into overdrive and I'm reminded of our earlier discovery, the evidence of which is stuffed in my handbag. I feel a blush beginning at the roots of my hairs, spreading rapidly into my face, neck and chest. Netra knows what I'm thinking and rescues me to go to the ladies room. I can't help but check out the vanities while we're in there - they seem pretty stable.

_It's not like I'm going to use them in any other way than the one they're intended for, but a girl can dream, right?_

By the time we return, Jasper's dare has been modified. He's to teach a session on using sex toys in fiction, but to bring the lesson to life he's to supply a range of 'artefacts' which he will get the students to identify and then describe how they're used.

Netra plonks herself back on Emmett's lap and wriggles, winking and grinning at Jill and I.

"So, I have a truth ready for you, Emmett," I announce, raising an eyebrow at him. I know he'll take the bait, and I count on Netra to finish it for me. This is payback for daring McSmutty to flirt with someone other than me.

"Bring it on, baby," he challenges.

"Is it true that you have a hard-on right now?" I ask, deliberately slow. His eyes waver briefly before he regains composure and puts on the perv boy face we all know so well by now.

"Of course I do. How could I not, with this pretty little piece of ass sitting in my lap? I'm sure she can attest to it, too," he brags. Netra gets a wicked gleam in her eyes and cocks her head to the side, her expression innocent.

"Really Emmy, you do? Well, that's a little embarrassing, because I don't feel a thing."

_I knew she'd go for that one!_

She giggles at his horrified expression, as does everyone else at the able. He then deliberately shifts under her and she squeals. He whispers something in her ear and she flicks his nose, looking mortified before clearing her throat and returning her attention to the game.

"So, Professor Pe- Edward," she corrects herself, "truth time."

"I just went," he protests. "It's Jill's turn."

"Don't care. Riddle me this, teach; how come the writing on Sara's paper is all messy and horrid, whereas the rest of us seem to have perfectly poised calligraphy on our papers?"

Edward's mouth falls open as Emmett, Jill and I all gasp at her question. Jasper looks confused. Netra looks like she's about suffocate in a cloud of her own smugness.

"Oh..." he stutters, averting his eyes. "I got a cramp in my hand, so I had to write with the other one."

"Really?" Emmett asks, his tone full of humour and disbelief, "and how exactly did you get this cramp?"

Edward's ears are bright red, and he looks terribly embarrassed. Netra drops her head to try and disguise her near silent laughter, but her whole body is shaking with it. Jill is looking away, biting her lip to stifle a smile, and I'm studying my cuticles, trying not to climb over the table and murder the Emmett and Netra.

"Writing," he answers, a little too quickly then takes a large gulp of his beer.

"And what did you spill on her page?" Netra asks quickly, making Edward choke on his beer as Emmett guffaws again. The two of them really need to be separated.

"Ok, ok," I intervene with a glare, deciding things have gone far enough. "Emmet, truth or dare?"

"I'm going for dare this time."

"Next class, you'll go in drag and present yourself as Emmeline, the new student." Now it's everyone else's turn to laugh at his expense for once, and we're all enjoying the opportunity.

"I'll help with make up!" Netra volunteers.

"Hold up," Emmett interjects with a raised hand. "Are we talking wigs, make up... heels?"

"Of course," I respond, "and I expect you to wear fake boobs, a knee length skirt and net stockings. Emmeline is kind of a whore. She also likes to flirt with creepy nerdy guys. Say, Jill, don't we have one of those in class?"

Jill purses her lips and nods thoughtfully.

"I think LeiasLuke would fit that description, yes. He's definitely Emmeline's type of guy."

Emmett's eyes grow wide as he realises exactly what he's in for. "Noooo... Please don't make me do it."

"Do you forfeit, Emmett?" Netra asks, her voice filled with implications.

"What will happen if I do?"

"You hit on LeiasLuke as Emmett," she says without missing a beat. Emmett presses his hands to his face, accepting defeat.

"So I guess it's settled, then. Emmeline, the whorish drag queen, will flirt shamelessly with LeiasLuke, creepy nerdy guy. The dare will be complete once he asks you out on a date," I inform him.

Emmett looks as though he is about to cry, and everyone just laughs harder.

"Oh!" Netra cries as the chuckles finally die down, "I love this song! Emmeline, come dance with me!" She squeezes out of the booth, grabbing his hand as they make their way over to the juke box to dance. As they go, Netra turns to me and mimes talking, then points between Edward and I. I roll my eyes at her, but turn to face him. Jasper and Jill are locked in a quiet conversation on the other side of the booth, and if I wasn't so distracted by Professor Sexface, I'd be intently listening in. I search desperately for something to say, preferably something safe that won't cause my vagina making a call to my brain again.

"So... you had a lot of essays to correct?" I ask. "Maybe you should have us emailing them as word documents instead. That way you could make the comments in the document, and avoid hand cramps."

Edward nods thoughtfully.

"That's not a bad idea, but I'm afraid I'm rather old fashioned. I was brought up to appreciate having a finely balanced tool in one's hand. Much more personal, don't you think?" he asks.

_Yeah, very personal... and crappy too, considering the look of that personal handwriting._

"I guess... Although I did wonder, when I compared my paper to the others." I curse myself for bringing this up. I seriously cannot believe how stupid I am, but I'm actually fishing for him to give himself away.

"I believe yours was one of the last papers I marked and it had got rather late. I also think I may need to replace my nib, it's rather worn out."

_His nib? That sounds like something entirely different than a writing device . I can replace that for you... What the hell is a nib anyway? Probably not what I'm hoping it is. I so need my dictionary._

"When I was a little boy, my mother was very keen on calligraphy. She insisted I learn to write in copperplate script. I remember one time when I got my nib crossed..." He drifts off for a moment, lost in his childhood memory.

_He got his nib what? Poor, poor nib... I can kiss it and make it better. Is my vagina talking to my brain again?_

"Oh. I'm sorry about your... nib." I swallow audibly.

He sighs. "It was very painful, my mother was quite upset. I was using her favourite pen at the time. To see the tip all wet and mangled, she was really disturbed."

My brain is suddenly assaulted with pictures of tips, dripping wet, ready to be mangled.

_Oh he can't be serious. Is he talking about wet tips now? I don't even know how to answer without making myself sound completely stupid._

"Well... wet tips can be quite a problem, when you put it that way."

_What did I say?_

He reaches inside of his jacket pocket and pulls out a thin barrel-shaped implement. He holds it up and snaps off the cap.

"This is the one I use mostly. Just look at it. See this little slit here?"

I blink and nod in amazement. _Slit?_

"Well, this is where the ink flows from the barrel to the tip. And the two little balls on the end, they provide the smooth flow. Of course, you don't want great gushes making a mess all over the page. "

I shake my head. I have penises flying around inside of my head now, and that makes it really hard to think.

_All this talk of slits and wet tips and balls... And he ends it with great gushes? I can't even make a decent conversation with this man without hearing sexual things. My head is definitely not correctly screwed on. It's just... screwed. Oh, I wish I was..._

"Yes," he muses, "every aspiring writer should be proficient in the use of a good fountain pen. I have been known to use my laptop, but I have a problem with sticky keys. I suppose it ought really be serviced."

_Oh please stop with those words. You have awoken my vagina and it's making my mind bend everything you say in and entirely wrong way. I can clearly see how fountains could be beneficial. And about that laptop, there might be a reason for those sticky keys? Maybe the same reason as the one buried in my bag right now? Oh, just shut up._

"I can give you a service." I stutter. He chokes on a mouthful of beer. I can't believe I just said that.

"I mean your lap. I can give it a service," I continue, not making it any better.

He turns to me, raising an eyebrow. _Crap!_

"No, your top I mean. Laptop. Yes. Laptop service." I take a deep breath.

"That's awfully kind of you, Sara. I like an independent woman who can take care of her own IT."

He grins and I swear he winks at me.

_Oh god, I so need to get out of here now. I'm making a complete fool of myself. My head isn't working, and apparently my hoohah is doing both the thinking and the talking at the moment._

"Edward?" The slightly slurred Southern voice invades my awkwardness, and I thank god that Edwards attention turns to someone else.

Withbone stands, and gestures towards the door. Jill blushes and steps forward, turning just long enough to give me a small shrug and a hasty wave.

"Well, Miss Sara, I guess that's our cue to go."

_Go? Where are we going? Am I going home with him? Is he coming back with me? _

"Err... okay. I guess I should head home as well," I murmur.

"Then please allow me to..." he leans in, but is distracted by the sound of breaking glass. My eyes flash to the bar, where Emmett is leaning down to pick up a shattered shot glass and Netra is using the bar to support herself as she laughs at him. I turn my gaze back to Edward, who is standing delightfully close.

_God, he smells good. _

"Allow me to accompany you to your car."

My mind is completely devoid of activity as I walk to the car, with Edward following closely behind. I'm afraid to say a single word, because my brain has been hijacked by my vagina and there is no way I'm allowing that little slut into the conversation now.

I fish out the car keys and motion towards my old Saab.

"So, this is mine..." I say, chewing on a finger nail.

"Oh, okay... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then. For your tutoring, I mean," Edward explains, running his fingers through his hair. His eyes are locked on the finger in my mouth, and I take it out immediately, embarrassed that I've fallen into this old nervous habit again.

I get into the car. Edward closes the door behind me, gentleman that he is, and I roll the window down. I put the key into the ignition and reach out of the window to wave goodbye, only to feel something very hard covered in soft denim against my palm.

I stare at the steering wheel while my mind tries to comprehend what I've just done.

_Remove your hand. _Somewhere a nervous giggle threatens to escape. _You've got his nib in your palm._

My hand doesn't move. I'm horrified yet fascinated.

_Take it off his cock, now. _

Still, no hand moving. I feel a slight twitch under the denim, though. _Wonder if it's leaking?_

_Oh my god, it's huge!_

"Uhm... you are... touching my..." Edwards hoarse voice wavers and trails off.

_Why hasn't he backed away?_

I finally crash back into reality again, and jerk my hand back, pulling it in through the open window.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I croak, and start the car. My body is shaking, I'm anxious to distance myself from this horrifying experience.

"Don't be!" I hear him shout after me as I speed away.

_I'm never going to wash this hand again._


	6. The Rise of Emmeline

**As always, we're not lucky enough to own the Cullen boys. We do enjoy playing with them, though! This chapter is brought to you by the lovely Netracullen. Here it is - The Rise of Emmeline!**

* * *

_**The Rise of Emmeline **by Netracullen_

There is a laser beam being directed at me. I'm sure of it. I cover my face and force my eyes open, looking for the source of the offending light.

Stupid fucking sun.

_Hang on a second. _I take a moment to absorb my surroundings and then gasp as panic floods through me.

_I'm not in my bedroom._

In fact, I've never seen this place before. _Holy shit._ Despite what people may or may not think of me, this is not the kind of thing that I make a habit of doing. The room is quite pleasant, with a large bed, hardwood floors and a dresser littered with framed photographs. Not that it makes me feel any better about the situation.

I pull my achy, tired body out of the bed and wonder what the hell I did to myself to end up feeling like this. I then realise that I'm dressed in what seems to be a giant Black Keys band t-shirt, so large that it almost skims my knees.

_Well, whoever he is, he has good taste in music._

After that thought passes through my head, I then arrive at the undeniable conclusion that I have been unclothed in the last couple of hours, otherwise I would not be wearing this t-shirt at all. This realisation only seems to heighten my already burgeoning panic. I cross the room, and as I near the bedroom door, I hear sounds from the other side. Apparently, I'm not alone in this strange apartment.

I don't know if that makes me feel better, or worse.

I take a deep breath and then slowly turn the door knob, because I've put myself in this most fucked up of situations, and now I'm going to have to handle things like an adult. Also, I'm not sure where my pants are, and I need them if I plan on leaving, which I do, as soon as humanly possible. I pad out into the room, following the sound of one of my favourite songs and what I suspect is a coffee machine.

_Maybe it's not all bad, after all._

I round the corner and realise that it's worse than I could ever have imagined.

"Oh no..." I breathe. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no..."

The behemoth turns when he hears the sound of my voice, a cheerful smile on his face. He's just wearing a pair of flannel pyjama pants, and I can see a lot more of him than I ever have before.

_The view's not half bad,_ I think to myself before I force my inner slutbag back into her cage, where she belongs at times such as this.

"Good morning! I had a feeling that shirt would suit you," Emmett chirps as he looks me up and down, and I want to be sick.

Suddenly, I'm bombarded with a series of images from the night before.

_A trip to the bar with Jill, Sara, Emmett and I._

_Professor Perv and Dr Withbone joining us._

_Drinks._

_Truth or Dare._

_Me in Emmett's lap._

_More drinks._

_Jokes about hand cramps._

_Dancing._

_Shots._

And then... nothing.

"Emmett," I say lowly, trying not to choke over the words that are about to come out of my mouth, "last night... we didn't..." I can't even finish the question, horrified as I am.

He laughs loudly, and I want to punch him in his bare stomach.

_I'd probably break my wrist, it looks so hard_, the slutbag coos as she strokes the bars of her cage in a far, far too suggestive manner. I almost want to slap myself in the face... this is Emmett we're talking about here, for christ's sakes!

_And who's we?_

In my hangover riddled state, it seems I am unable to tell that there is only one person living inside my head. I divert my attention back to Emmett before I end up saying one of my ridiculous thoughts aloud.

"No, we didn't. We both had a little too much to drink, and I didn't want you going home on your own, so I brought you here."

I say nothing, by my suspicious gaze makes his smile fade slightly.

"Jeez, what do you think I am? I slept on the couch, and put you in my bed."

I am slightly mollified by this information, until something occurs to me abruptly. I grasp a handful of the shirt I'm swathed in and shake it accusingly.

"Then why am I in this?"

He just sighs.

"Netra, you were in skin tight jeans and a leather jacket last night... not exactly comfy sleeping attire. I gave you a shirt and you changed yourself."

"Oh," I mutter, "well... thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," he says, with his cheerful smile back in place. "Believe me," his voice drops lower, "if we did, you'd know."

I roll my eyes as I walk over to the kitchen table and flop down into a seat, still exhausted. My eyes are stinging and my head feels like someone is trying to inflate a balloon in there. He places a cup of coffee and some aspirin in front of me and I smile gratefully at him.

"The Black Keys, huh? I would have picked you for more the Guns N Roses, AC/DC kind of guy," I muse as I take in the music flowing through the room.

"Not at this time of day," he says with a smile as he potters around in the kitchen. I'm a little shocked. It seems that Emmett is full of surprises.

_I'm sure there are some great surprises to be found under those flimsy pants._

I clear my throat, trying to dispel the skanky thoughts that are cropping up in my head.

"So, my memory of last night is decidedly lacking," I say, trying to restart the conversation in a more pleasant direction, "anything funny happen that is yet to come back to me?"

"Well," he starts as he sits down at the table beside me with a box of cereal and what looks to be a mixing bowl that he fills almost completely then douses with milk. "Sara left with Professor Perv."

I almost spit out my mouthful of coffee.

"No," I gasp, and he nods.

"Looks like there'll be jizz on more than just her homework," he jokes, and I giggle at the memory of Sara's clueless expression. The poor, innocent Swede.

_Apparently not so innocent, if she's sneaking into the carpark with Sexface._

"And Jill?" I question and then snatch his spoon out of his hands to feed myself a mouthful of his cereal. He shrugs.

"Actually, I'm not sure what happened to her, I think she left just before we broke that glass."

"We?" I scoff, pointing at him with the spoon in my hand, "you mean _you_ dropped it when you tried to convince me you could take the shot without using your hands!"

"I can do that! They were just weirdly shaped glasses," he argues as he pulls the spoon from my grasp.

I roll my eyes at him, then look away, more than a little disgusted when he starts wolfing down cereal at a slightly disturbing pace.

"God you're gross," I chide him. I then realise I have no idea what time it is, and my eyes dart around the room for a clock.

"What are you looking for?"

"A clock. What's the time?"

"About 9:30," he informs me.

"Why are we even awake yet?" I cry, horrified, before I realise what I've just said. His expression darkens.

"We can go back to bed if you want."

_Let's do that!_ cries the slutbag.

"Cool it, perv," I say with a glare and an accusing finger pointed in his direction. He chuckles.

"Now, where are my clothes?" I ask.

"As much as I'm enjoying the view," he leers at me, "they're on the chair in my bedroom."

I grab my purse and clothes then dart into his bathroom, hoping against hope that I can somehow make it look like I haven't been out all night. I pull on my clothes and then get to work with my make up bag, trying to fix myself.

_I just want go home, sleep the day away, and start again tomorrow._

Then I remember something and perk up considerably. With one last glace at myself in the mirror I skip out the door, only to smack right into Emmett's broad chest.

_Ow..._

He catches me around the waist to prevent me from falling, just as I smack my hands into his now t-shirt covered torso to steady myself. A moment passes before I look up to meet his eyes.

"Hey." My voice is near silent, and I think i may be concussed from the impact.

"Hey yourself," he murmurs. I shake my head to clear, trying to remember what it was I wanted to talk to him about. I manage to recall it, and struggle to keep the evil smile off my face.

"Do you have plans today?" I ask innocently.

"No..." he trails off, flexing his hands around my waist.

"Really?" I ask, and he nods. "That's good." I smile sweetly up at him and flex my hands against his chest, copying his earlier movement.

"Is it now?" he asks lowly. I nod, looking up at his face.

_He looks damn good from this angle_, the slutbag notes, and I have to admit, she's right.

"And why, exactly is that?" he murmurs, splaying his hands out so that his fingertips graze the waistband of my jeans. I shudder slightly as his pinkie slides across the patch of skin between my top and my pants.

"Because," I start, my voice dropping under the strain of the suddenly intense conversation. I roll up onto the balls of my feet, bringing my face closer to his. His smirk is sinister, and his eyes light up as I move myself closer. My hands are pressing firmly into his shirt.

"Because?" he prompts, and I abruptly realise what's going on here. I drop back down onto my feet and take my hands off his chest as the haze ascends.

_What are you doing? _the slutbag screams at me, furious. I blink harshly to clear my head before I speak.

"Because we're going shopping!" I announce in a cheerful tone, stepping back to put some space between us. He catches my drift and lets go of me.

"What are we shopping for?" he asks, perplexed.

"She's a very special girl, and she needs a brand new outfit for class next week... I think you know her? Her name is _Emmeline_."

His jaw drops.

"That was a joke," he insists quietly. I shake my head slowly as my smile grows, and he groans.

"I'm not doing it." There's an authority in his voice that I've never heard before. The slutbag is presenting her wrists for handcuffing.

"Then I guess you're hitting on that guy as Emmett," I taunt him, "I've always been partial to a little guy-on-guy action."

He drops his face into his hands, and I smile.

_Success._

**Emmett POV**

_I cannot fucking believe this is happening._

It's 10am, I'm walking into the building with Netra at my side... and I'm dressed in drag.

When she came over this morning to help me out, she made no attempt to hide how hilarious she found this situation to be. She'd picked out an outfit for me, comprised of a skirt that flared out slightly and came to just above my knee, claiming that it gave the illusion of hips, with stockings, flat shoes - thank god - and a top that read '49% angel, 51% whore'. Underneath that, to my disgust and horror, is a bra, padded out with tissues and rolled up socks. I'm also wearing a long, brown wig with bangs, again to try and cover up that I'm quite obviously a dude.

I'd never hated her more than in the moment that she came at me with an eyeliner pencil, because _that shit stings_. According to her, I don't have naturally feminine features, and dramatic makeup is required to disguise that fact.

_I guess that's a compliment... sort of._

A weaker man would have broken under the intense emasculation of the whole process, but I was more than manly enough to handle being in drag... for a very short while. I'd made doubly sure that she'd packed make up remover, though.

We walk into the building, side by side, and I can hear her soft laughter every time she shoots me a sidelong glance. She knows I can hear her, too.

"You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Loving what?" she asks innocently and I scowl at her. "By the way, you should probably kick your voice up an octave or two. Ladies don't speak like pro wrestlers, Emmeline."

"I hate you," I grumble.

"No, you don't."

We enter the classroom, Netra two steps ahead of me, obviously wanting to get a good look at everyone's reaction to this. I enter the room, trying my best to act like a hot woman, and Sara and Jill get one look at me before both their heads hit their desks in unison and they burst into hysterical laughter. Professor Perv looks up to see what the fuss is about, and then chokes on the mouthful of coffee he's just taken. He coughs, trying to clear his throat and act nonchalant.

_I hate each and every one of them for this._

"Hey guys!" Netra calls, getting the attention of the people in the room. "This is my cousin, Emmeline. She's _real_ friendly, but please be nice to her anyway," she says, her voice full of implications I don't want to think about.

_Get in, get it done, get out._

"Hi," I say flirtatiously with a wave. Professor Perv chokes back another laugh, trying to maintain the facade that he is a professional. Sara and Jill on the other hand, are making no attempt to conceal their glee. I wander to the back of the room, where LeiasLuke is fiddling with something.

"Hey, is this seat taken?" I ask, pointing to the empty chair beside him. I know full well that this chair is never taken. He looks up at me, and his widen. For a second, I'm sure he knows that I'm a dude, but then he gives what I assume to be a seductive smile.

"For you, it's definitely available," he says with a wink.

I think I'm going to be sick.

_Get in, get it done, get out._

I take the seat, trying not to shudder as the smell of mothballs and Head & Shoulder assails me. If acne had a smell, it would also be part of the mix. I close my eyes, trying to gather my resolve, only to open them and see Netra smirking evilly at me.

_I can totally do this._

"So," I ask, nodding towards his fidgeting hands, "what have you got there?"

"I whittle in my spare time," he says, without looking up from his project.

"Oh," I say, taken aback that anyone under 90 did that shit any more, "what are you whittling?"

"Han Solo's DL-44 Heavy Blaster," he mutters, before making several more deliberate strokes and then placing the miniature gun and his blade on the table before him. He looks up at me appraisingly, and I try not to gag. Apparently, I'm not too subtle at hiding my disgust, because I can hear the girls laughing from up the front.

"So, you're Netra's cousin?" he asks casually.

"Uh huh," I say, trying to sound flirty.

"And your name's Emmeline?"

"I'm so glad you remembered," I cooed, doing that weird looking-away girls do when they flirt. I also blinked quickly a few times, because they do that shit too. I was positive that I looked like a total douche, but he seemed to be eating it up.

"That's cool, I'm Leslie, or LeiasLuke."

_Leslie? How did I not know this prior to now?_

"LeiasLuke?" I ask, feigning surprise, "my ficname is LukesLeia!"

His eyes light up. I neglect to mention that in Star Wars, Luke and Leia are siblings, because I suspect he already knows that, and it doesn't especially bother him. Shit, perhaps that's the appeal.

_I have stop thinking like this or I'll end up vomiting all over his whittling station._

"That is such a coincidence," I continue. "It's almost as if -"

"We're meant to be," he cuts me off.

_Now we're getting somewhere._

"Maybe we are," I say with a weak laugh, trying as hard as I can to veil my disgust. He puts his hand on my leg, way, _way_ too high up, and I'm trying as hard as I possibly can not to run away, because I refuse to lose this dare. I gently manoeuvre my leg out of his hand's path.

_Get in, get it done, get out._

"I know we just met, and it might be a little early to ask this..." he trails off.

_Here we go..._

"Ask what?" I prompt coyly.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, completely seriously. I feel like my eyes are going to fall out of my head, I'm so shocked. After a second, I manage to reign myself in, only to see him staring at me expectantly.

"Look Leslie... I only marry people I've been on dates with," I hint, trying to push down exactly how freaked out I am.

"Oh, I guess we should observe that formality," he says quietly, possibly to himself. "Will you go out with me, then?"

_And I am out of here._

Without another word, I snatch up my backpack and run for the door, grabbing Netra's arm as I go. She's giggling as I drag her from the room. I'm halfway down the hall to the bathroom when I hear Professor Perv calling.

"Class is about to start," he yells, "so hurry it up!" I can hear the mirth in his voice.

"Go fuck yourself, teach!" I yell before shoving the bathroom door open and pulling Netra and myself inside. She doubles over, laughing and trying to catch her breath at once. I yank off the fucking wig and toss it onto the bathroom counter. The skirt and stockings are next to go, and Netra is still laughing her ass off as I quickly throw my jeans back on. I pull off the shirt as she finally manages to compose herself.

"So, what did he say?" she asks, her breathing still a little off as she rights herself. I look over at her, cheeks flushed, hair messy and eyes bright, and something inside of me snaps. I take the four steps required to put me right in front of her.

"We'll talk about it later," I say lowly then swiftly grab the back of her jean-covered thighs and yank her up into my arms. She squeaks as I press her up against the bathroom door, and her arms move reflexively around my shoulders to hold herself up.

"What are you -"

"Later," I grunt, then crush my lips to hers. She's frozen for a moment, probably from the suddenness and voracity of my attack, but then her lips begin to move against mine, and her fingers dig gently into my bare shoulders. Her ankles knot behind my back and I push her further into the door.

So far, in fact, that it swings open, hurtling us out into the corridor. And with that, the spell is broken.

"Oh my god," she murmurs, looking mortified. "Put me down please."

I immediately lower her to the ground and we walk back into the bathroom together. I pull my shirt over my head and she helps me get the damned make up off. We do all of this in silence. I gather all my stuff together and put it in my backpack, and I turn to see her leaving the bathroom without so much as a backwards glance.

_Shit._

I reach out and grab her wrist, forcing her to look at me.

"Look, I'm sorry if -"

"No," she cuts me off. "It's fine. Don't... don't be sorry. I wanted..." she looks uncharacteristically humble. It kind of suits her.

"Oh," I say, a smile threatening to escape. "Well... cool."

"Cool," she smiles back. We leave the bathroom, and make our way back to the classroom. When we walk in, it seems that some serious shit has gone down in our absence. Sara is sitting in her seat, brow furrowed behind her glasses, looking thoroughly pissed off. Jill is shaking her head, seemingly caught between laughing and supporting her friend.

I drag my eyes across the room to see... _Oh._

_That sneaky fucker. Of course he waits until I'm out of the room and can't watch the train wreck in progress._

Professor Perv is leaning against Foxycougar's desk, caught in a quiet conversation. She's about as subtle as a ten dollar hooker, and he's obviously a fine actor, because he seems to be eating out of the palm of her hand. No wonder Sara's so pissed off. But then it _was_ his dare, and mine was much, much worse than this!

I decide that it's time for an intervention before Sara crosses the room and smacks the woman. As casually as possible, I wander over to where the Prof and Foxycougar are talking. I can hear her speaking.

"... and even though I was charged with indecent exposure, it was a pretty fun night all the same. Although, it would have been more fun if you'd been there."

_Jesus Christ._

"Uh, Professor?" I interrupt them, and Foxy gifts me a filthy look.

_Calm yourself, skank._

"Oh, Emmett, what can I do for you?"

He gives me a look that clearly says '_thank you for saving me,"_ and I return it with one that says '_stop this shit now, you're in trouble dude'. _He looks confused, so I let my eyes dart over to sulking Sara on the other side of the room. His eyes widen when he realises what I'm referring to.

"I was just wondering when class was going to start this morning?" I ask him.

"Oh... yeah, let's get started now." He walks away from Foxy without another word, and she looks like she's about ready to knife me. Or claw me to death with her acrylic nails. He tries to make eye contact with Sara, but she refuses to lift her gaze from the table.

_He's in serious shit now._

I almost laugh, but don't, because I'm damn fond of the Swede, and don't like that this a-hole is making her sad. I take my usual seat and wait for Edward to begin. All three of the girls around me are studiously examining the tables in front of them, not willing to look up at anyone else around them.

_I have a feeling today is going to be a real motherfucker._


	7. Jasper's Dare

_**Hello again, dear readers! We are happy to be back with a chapter from one of our sexy professors. This time it's Jasper's velvety voice coming to you from his very own ghostwriter. We hope you enjoy it! As always, we do not own the Cullen boys. We just play with them. A lot.**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**Jasper's Dare **by Jasper Withbone_

As soon as I was challenged, I knew I'd never be able to say no. Still, I kinda got off lightly – Emmett had to cross-dress, and poor Eddie had to flirt with Foxycougar. I'd like to say the name doesn't define the person, but in this instance, it absolutely does; except, in my opinion, she's not all that foxy, unless it's a reference to her bushy red hair and fucked up eyebrows.

I don't think I've ever witnessed anyone looking quite as uncomfortable as Eddie did in class last week. I also caught a weird vibe from SwedenSara, who didn't look at all impressed with his performance.

It's pretty obvious there's some UST going on there, I mean, he choked the chicken while reading her work and fuckin' sprayed his spunk on it. Classic! Something about girl-on-girl fantasy, he told me.

Of course, I'd never be that stupid. Never.

Still, can't be too harsh on Edward, he has recommended that I take on JillM12 as a student. _Hell yeah, that is quite some favour_. Not only does she write well, she's very attractive and she has an awesome English accent. I wouldn't usually get involved with a student, but for her I could totally make an exception.

So, just after lunch, I find myself collecting together a range of sex toys for the students to identify and discuss in this afternoon's session. I go through my mental checklist.

_Dildos – check._

_Standard vibrator – check._

_Novelty vibrators – check._

_Small selection of BDSM equipment – check._

_Assorted gender based accessories – check._

I check my notes and pack all the things into a large box, along with my notes. I've lectured on numerous potentially embarrassing topics; the difference here is the students. We seemed to have attracted a larger than average percentage of "characters."

_Please God that LeiasLuke skips class._

I'm ready and waiting when the students file into the room. Edward is a little late - he's usually so punctual – and I can smell a vague whiff of alcohol on his breath. I raise my eyebrows in question.

"Just the one," he says. "For medicinal purposes. You saw how that... _woman_ was last week. I needed all the courage I could get to walk back in here."

"Oh, I don't know; I reckon you would have made a lovely couple."

"Watch out, Withbone. I know things, remember?"

He does. He knows that I'm crushing on a student. He also knows a lot about my previous attempts at playing the field. Best not get him riled up, I figure, so I leave it alone.

Last ones in, as usual, are Sara, Jill and Netra, closely followed by Emmett, now returned to his usual masculine persona. I notice another member in their party.

"Hey Doc, my friend is visiting for the afternoon and Mrs. Cope, the course administrator, said it would be okay to bring her along to class."

"Does your friend have a name, Miss NetraCullen?"

"What do you think? Of course she does. She goes by the name of PimpMom, and she writes Twilight fan fiction."

"Excellent, I'll just make a quick note of that," I say, jotting the name on a pad on the desk. I hope to God this isn't another random dare, Emmeline last lesson was about as much as I can take. They take up their usual seats on the back row and I notice Edward glancing furtively at SwedenSara, who glowers in response. _Uh oh, trouble brewing there_.

"Okay everybody, welcome back, hope you all had a good week. This afternoon I've been asked to talk about using sex toys in fiction."

There's the inevitable hushed snigger around the room, although I recognize a choked laugh as Emmett's. The guy is such a dude, but I really like him.

"Since the 1960's society in general has developed a much more liberal attitude towards sex. For example, the kinds of fan fiction many of you write would still have been too daring for public consumption back then.

"As interest in all things sexual grew, so did people's knowledge; implements and equipment which might once have been considered unusual or kinky have become more widely accepted."

I look around the room. Most of the students have their eyes diverted and are making notes. Emmett is looking up, he grins and winks at me, but the scariest thing is that LeiasLuke is totally rapt. He is drinking in every word and is, quite clearly, totally in the zone. A strange sense of foreboding comes over me.

"So today, I have some artefacts..."

I can hear Emmett snickering, but I ignore him.

"...which I hope will inspire your imaginations, and expand your knowledge. As you've done in previous sessions with Professor Hawkins, I'd like you to take a multi-sensory approach when describing these things. The visual is the most obvious, but how would it feel, or smell? What sound might it make? If you explored it with your lips..."

Someone lets out a low groan. I immediately look to Emmett, who shrugs and gestures towards LeiasLuke, who's looking somewhat flustered. I clear my throat.

"Okay, everyone clear?" I don't wait long before delving into the box and withdrawing my prized possession.

I hold up the long, thick piece of wood so that everyone can see it.

"Any ideas?"

I nod at Netra's friend, PimpMom, whose hand is in the air.

"Looks like an old stick to me. I can't imagine that would be very sexy."

There are giggles and nods of agreement, before Emmett chips in.

"What's brown and sticky?"

SwedenSara and Netra roll their eyes.

"A stick. Get it? A stick?" He begins to laugh and, before long, most of the class is hysterical, even though the joke is old and lame.

"Okay, everyone. The object is made of wood, good start. Any more suggestions?"

"Is it an anal probe?" A student in the middle of the room asks.

I can see one or two eyes watering at the thought and I respond.

"It isn't intended as one, but, with a little imagination, it's conceivable it may have been used in that way."

I see her hand raise slowly, uncertainty in the gesture, and I call on her.

"Yes, Miss JillM12?"

_Get it right. Please, get it right._

"Is it..." she hesitates, "...some kind of dildo?"

I smile directly at her, and am rewarded with a shy smile in return.

I nod. "Absolutely. It might surprise you to know, ladies and gentleman, that this is, in fact, a medieval dildo, made from wood, smoothed and polished, and, as far as we can ascertain, used to give pleasure to both sexes."

"Fuck that!" Emmett booms out. "What about splinters, dude?"

There's a collective wince around the room.

"Indeed, Emmett, good point. It's true, there was a risk related to using such an implement. Hygiene was not as well developed as it is now, and a stray splinter of wood, as well as being painful, might have embedded itself internally and turned the wound septic. If this happened, there would be every possibility of death from septicaemia, blood poisoning."

"Man, I think I'd have worked with Rosy Palm and her five daughters, or else stayed celibate."

Another fit of giggles ensues.

Netra nudges Emmett and glares at him. Their constant barracking is amusing. It's pretty obvious there's something going on there; they just haven't recognized it yet.

LeiasLuke raises his hand. I take a deep breath and respond.

"You've a question?"

"Yeah," he says, slightly breathlessly, "did they really have dildos a hundred years ago?"

"They did, and way before that. Medieval refers to a time period of around a thousand years, from 500 AD to around 1500 AD. This particular example dates from the latter part of the period, making it around 500 years old."

Emmett makes a gagging noise.

"Holy shit! That's just... unhygienic, man. I mean, it's not waterproof, can't be sterile, geez. What kind of weird historic fuckers would go diddling themselves with a stick?"

He's looking slightly green, so I move the lesson on with a smile.

"Contrary to popular belief, Emmett, the present generation did not invent sex. It's human nature to be inventive and creative."

I glance up to see JillM12 smiling. I smile back and we're caught in a momentary bubble, before her blush and a small cough bring me back to the present.

"So," I continue, selecting five or six more dildos from the box. "Organize yourselves into six small groups and I'll provide each of them with a visual aid. I'd like each group to come up with a short paragraph, descriptive or narrative, about the object. I'm leaving the task deliberately vague, so you can really use your powers of description and imagination."

I debate on whether to mix the groups, splitting the usual friendships, but decide against it. It's something Edward and I plan to do, but it has to be the right activity. I observe as they get into their preferred groups.

Emmett, Netra, her friend PimpMom, SwedenSara and JillM12 collect their toy and head out. I know they'll be at the coffee place - not that I stalk them or anything - I just know it's their 'place' for group work. Edward has a fairly relaxed policy in his classes, as long as tasks get completed the location is up to the students. Most of the others stay in the room. _Lack of imagination._

"You've got forty-five minutes." I remind them. "Please be back on time, we've a lot more to get through."

"No hassles, Doc," says Netra as she drags her friend from the room.

"Don't stress, Doctor Jay," Emmett winks at me. "I'll have them back right on time."

I wander round from group to group, not commenting but listening to some of their discussions. I shudder as I overhear LeiasLuke and Foxycougar in deep conversation over rubber versus PVC. Two words, bleach and brain, come to mind. I know I'm looking anxiously at the door.

"Calm down, Jas," Edward reminds me. "They'll be back. More specifically, _she'll _be back."

I can't miss the inference in his voice. He winks then runs a hand through his hair.

"Like you can talk." I retort. "What the hell is going on with you and Sara? If looks could fucking kill!"

"No idea what you mean," he says with a slight stammer. "She's my student, that's all."

"Of course, Professor Hawkins, you have a purely professional interest. You cum over the work of _all_ your students."

"Shut it, Jasper. I think she was a little pissed at my flirting with the cougar woman last week."

"Hmm, I can see why she might be. You seemed to convince the Foxface pretty well."

"Foxface?" Edward laughs.

"Well, the red bushy hair, the pointy nose, the predatory grin..."

Our conversation is interrupted as the door opens and the group marches back in. Emmett is proudly carrying the dildo and making lewd gestures to anyone who looks in his direction, and Netra is sipping from a take-out coffee cup. Sara is talking animatedly to PimpMom, who seems to have settled right into the little group, and Jill is... _holy fuck! _She's sipping a fruit smoothie through a straw and her lips look totally plump and kissable.

_I want to be that straw_.

Edward grins at me.

"_Fucker,"_ I mouth at him. He knows exactly what's going on.

"Okay, class," I call to get their attention. "Let's hear what you've got. Who'll volunteer to go first?"

LeiasLuke's hand is first up and I feel I have no choice.

"Okay." I gesture to him. He stands, holds up the large black rubber object, and begins.

"I delve into the tunnel, my waterproof coat protecting me from the wetness seeping from the crinkled walls. It's deliciously dark and the space is tight. I ease further in, exploring. I come up against an obstruction - it's difficult being so large in such a restricted space. I pull back, before trying again."

I have a nasty feeling about this.

"This time, I'm able to progress further, pushing my way through the soft, brown mass that was my barrier earlier. The walls tighten and ripple. I hear a muffled groan from above, and retreat once more. My overcoat is dirty, smeared with thick brown deposits..."

Several people in the class have now realized he is describing an ass fuck - with himself as the dildo. I can see a couple of the ladies looking rather delicate and I know I have to intervene.

"Thank you, Luke," I say, cutting him off. "It's an interesting, if unusual idea, to personify the dildo itself. I think it might add something if you were more descriptive of the object itself. Let's move on."

We listen to several other groups. As usual, there's a mixture of good and bad. I deliberately leave Emmett's group until last.

"So, let's have the final group shall we? Who's going to read?"

"Umm, I am. Doctor Withbone," Jill says shyly, standing up.

I sit. My dick is reacting to her voice, like one of Pavlov's dogs. She speaks, it stands to attention. _Yes sir. Sergeant Dick reporting for action._

"I gaze at the beautifully wrapped gift, before carefully undoing the purple bow and the silver paper. I lift the lid and gasp. Nestled in the rich purple tissue is an effigy. I drink in the detail of the object before me. Around nine inches in length and maybe four or five in circumference, hand carved, so detailed that every vein, every fold of skin is visible."

_I want to touch myself_. Hearing her voice describing the dildo has sent my libido into orbit. I try to surreptitiously shift in my seat, to make myself a little more comfortable. Eddie notices and winks at me.

"I lift it from its soft, paper bed and hold it up to the light. It's made of marble, and the sun streaming through the window reflects off it, making it somehow sparkle. I wrap my fingers around it, noticing the thickness of the girth, feeling each small bump and groove. It feels so real. I look closer, noticing initials carved into the base. The maker? No, I realize with a jolt that these are _his _initials. He has sent me a marble replica of his cock."

_Shit!_ I have to use breathing exercises to control myself. You could hear a pin drop in the room, everyone is transfixed. Her tone is low and sexy, her accent beautifully English as she continues.

"The knowledge that he has sent me something so personal, so intimate, is a huge turn on. I clench my thighs together, needing to feel friction, before looking again at the object in my hand. I smile to myself. He may not be here in person, but... "

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! Is she gonna...?_

"I slip off my jeans, and run my hand over my panties, they are beyond damp. I move to my bed and make myself comfortable. I pass the cool marble between my legs, enjoying the chill hardness against my heat. I could pretty much come on the spot, but I want to feel it – feel him – inside me. Pushing the white silk to one side, I position the tip where it needs to be. It stretches me as it slowly penetrates. The coldness of the stone causes my walls to clench tightly around it. If I breathe in deeply enough, I can smell his scent, mingled with the unmistakable scent of sex. _Fuck!_ I feel his lips on mine and I move the dildo faster. In my head, he is whispering, telling me I'm beautiful, I'm his. When he tells me to come, I obey, thrusting the marble cock deep inside for one last time, before coating it with my own juices."

I don't hear the final few sentences; I am concentrating very hard on not coming in my pants. I don't know how I'd explain _that_ to the class. I can't move.

"Well done, everyone." I clear my throat. Let's move on to the next object, shall we? Professor Hawkins, if you'd be so kind."

Fortunately, Edward catches on quickly and stands, delving into the box and pulling out a cock ring. Rather than getting the groups to write, he uses a flip chart to record their ideas, which range from absolute ignorance, _is it a rubber band?_ to way too much knowledge, _they cause the capillaries to dilate, restricting blood flow back into the body, therefore maintaining an erection for longer._

I've calmed enough to continue, so I decide to produce one of my best finds. It is a small vibrator, controlled via Bluetooth technology, meaning the user and the controller can be quite some distance apart. It's kind of kinky; I guess that's why I like it.

"Okay," I say, holding it aloft, "anyone got any ideas?"

A few moments pass, before Sara tentatively raises her hand. She deliberately avoids looking at Edward.

"Is it a vibrator?"

"Yes, it is, but there's something a little unusual about it."

She raises her eyebrows as I walk over to her desk and place the small bullet shaped object into her hand. She examines it closely and I walk back to the front of the room.

"Hmm, can't seem to find the on/off switch," she mutters. "Whoa!"

I press the control and she is clearly feeling the effect. It's a powerful little item.

She searches for an off switch, but fails to find one. I turn it off.

Edward is smirking. She catches sight and frowns.

"So, Miss SwedenSara," I continue. "Any further thoughts?"

"Is it... remote controlled?"

"Sort of... but much more advanced." I hold up the small controller. The class looks interested.

"This is a Bluetooth control, the latest technology. It operates over a long range, providing there is a mobile phone signal, and it is silent, unlike previous models which made a characteristic buzzing sound."

I see one or two of the ladies whispering and giggling together and get the feeling they might just be wondering where they can get hold of one of these clever little devices. I decide to put them out of their misery.

"They are available online," I say, giving them a web address. I grin as I notice most of the students noting it down.

Edward holds out his hand to me, silently requesting the controller. I give it over without question.

There is a loud "ahhh," as I reveal my next toy. It is a small, yellow rubber duck.

"Now, you may be wondering what this cute object has got to do with sex toys..."

"I know, I know," calls out LeiasLuke. "It's a rubber ducky bath time vibrator."

His voice makes my skin crawl, and when he says '_rubber ducky'_ my brain is assaulted with images of Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street. The words pop unbidden in to my head and it's all I can do to not sing out loud.

_Rubber Ducky,_

_you're the one,_

_You make bathtime lots of fun,_

_Rubber Ducky,_

_I'm awfully fond of you;_

_Rubber Ducky, joy of joys,_

_When I squeeze you, you make noise!_

_Rubber Ducky,_

_You're my very best friend, it's true!_

I zone back in and from the looks on the faces of the rest of the class, LeiasLuke has been waxing lyrical about all the things you can do with a rubber duck. I catch the word 'beak' and hear one of the ladies gag.

"Enough!" I say."Time is pressing, we must move on."

I lay out a selection of BDSM toys, nothing too gruesome, and we identify them and discuss each one. Blindfolds and cuffs are discussed, the softness of the materials, the best blackout properties and the excitement of losing one of the senses.

_That gives me an idea for an assignment._

I hold up a soft suede flogger and pull it sharply through the air, letting it clip the edge of a desk. I see several ladies flinch, but one or two smile and begin to squirm. SwedenSara licks her lips and stares at the flogger, before glancing furtively at Edward.

_Oh… She's into that? Edward will be so pleased…_

"This is a flogger. Used properly it can give great pleasure to both parties. It should never be used to hurt or harm, only to please. They are available in different materials."

Netra's friend, PimpMom, surprises me by putting up her hand. When I nod, she speaks.

"Not only different materials, but different thicknesses and weights. An experienced user can vary the sensations quite dramatically and pain can actually be quite pleasurable. Of course, it is vital to administer after-care."

"Why, thank you, Miss PimpMom, you seem very knowledgeable."

She laughed. "I should hope so. I sell sex toys for a living."

There are mutters and giggles around the room. Netra grins and Emmett looks like the cat who ate the canary. LeiasLuke moans and I'm sure I see a spot of drool collecting at the corner of his mouth.

_Disgusting!_

"Maybe you could set up a practical demonstration." The words are out of Emmett's mouth before he has engaged his brain.

Netra jabs him in the ribs with an elbow.

"Oops, sorry," she intones, clearly not sorry at all.

"Ouch! That fucking hurt."

A wicked grin flashes across Netra's face.

_What is it with the women in the class today? PMS?_

I wrap up the session by drawing together all the key points about using toys in fiction. It has been an interesting day in every way and I think, I hope, I've carried out my dare well. I certainly didn't have it as tough as poor Emmett, or maybe we should just call him Emmeline from here on in. Eddie did a good job with Foxface, although he's gonna have to handle the wrath of SwedenSara, she is definitely still pissed at him.

I realize that I need to set up a date – make that an appointment – with JillM12, to discuss my research project... _and possibly ravish her over my desk._

I'm sure she feels a similar level of attraction to me and yet it's making me nervous even daring to think about it. _I__ am turning into a pussy. Miaow. Stroke me and give me cream. Shit! There I go again... she is killing me._

As I dismiss the class, I ask her to stay behind for a few moments. As he exits, Edward asks SwedenSara to email him to fix up a tutorial and as the rest of their group leaves, Emmett grins and high-fives me.

_Sometimes he is so obnoxiously obvious..._

"I... umm... think we ought to set up a meeting to discuss extra tuition and how that will feed into my research project. When are you likely to be available?"

She bites her bottom lip, then reaches into her bag and pulls out a diary.

_Does she even realize how hot that is? The whole lip-biting thing?_

"I can fit in with you, Doctor Withbone," she says.

_Mmm, I wonder if I can fit into her? Stop it, Jasper! Focus now, like the professional you're supposed to be._

We fix up an appointment exactly a week ahead.

"I wonder if you'd be so kind as to do me a favour?" I ask.

"I can try."

"Would you write for me? A short piece where one of the senses is out of action for some reason. I'd like you to explore the idea of the other senses compensating for the loss. See what you come up with."

"Hmm, so maybe something like being blindfolded so you can't see... or having music played into your ears so you lose the sense of what's going on around?"

I imagine her blindfolded on my bed. I would worship her with everything I had, until she cried out my name in that perfect accent_. Fuck! Down boy!_

I wonder if she detects the waver in my voice as I reply. "Yes, something exactly like that."

She leans in, her lips next to my ear.

"It would be my pleasure..." she hesitates, "Jasper."

And then she's gone. I'm left standing, rooted to the spot, a hard-on to rival a baseball bat, not entirely sure of what to do next.

Cautiously, I repack my box, realizing that I didn't reclaim the Bluetooth vibe. Sara has the bullet and Eddie has the controls. Now that could be fun!

I adjust myself and limp back to my office for some alone time.

_She might well prove to be the death of me, but at least I'll die with a shit-eating grin on my face._


	8. You've got mail

_**Hello lovelies... Long time, no see! I hope you all have had a good time! I have - I've been doing some private tutoring with McSmutty himself. In hindsight, it was a very... satisfying experience, and I'm very curious as to see where it takes us later on! As always, we don't own the lovely boys. But we play with them an awful lot... Also, props to those who can figure out exactly what fic I'm not so subtly referring to a bit down...**_

_**Thanks to FangMom, Netracullen and our sister in crime - the Edward ghostwriter... ILY!**_

* * *

_**You've got mail **by SwedenSara_

I chew nervously on my fingernails as I sit outside McSmutty's office this afternoon, waiting for my private tutoring session. I hear his voice from behind the door, a faint melodic mumbling that quiets from time to time. At first my paranoid mind comes to the conclusion he has someone in there – _If it's Foxycougar I'll fucking kill her_ – but when I don't hear anyone answering him I realize he's on the phone with someone.

This meeting has been postponed twice already – once by me, after the very unpleasant experience of watching him carrying out his dare with Foxycougar, and once by him after our last class and Dr Withbone's little sex toy exhibition.

Edward was way too convincing in his flirting with Foxycougar, and had I not heard him explain earlier how repulsed he is by her, I would have totally believed it. Still, watching the show he put on for her made me sick. I could by no means sit down and try to write good smut for him, when all I wanted to do was to punch him in the balls for being too good an actor.

We rescheduled, and were supposed meet up for tutoring immediately after sex toy class, but apparently he had more important things to deal with and asked me to email him to set up a new date.

_Yeah right. Date. As if._

These delays mean I haven't been alone with him since the embarrassing, yet satisfying, cock-grabbing episode after the truth or dare game. I shake my head to rid myself of the memory, because as nice as it was, palming his… business, it is not a good thing to think about when I'm about to face him in just a few minutes.

_It was good __business to palm, though…_

My hand burns at the memory of his cock twitching underneath it, and I raise it to my mouth, skimming my palm with my lips. I close my eyes and imagine that twitch against my lips, as I open my mouth to take him in. Considering the six degrees of separation theory, my mouth against my palm can almost, but not entirely, count as me giving him a blow-job.

Footsteps approaching quickly down the hallway jerks me out of my fantasy, and I realize I'm still sitting with my mouth partly open against my palm and the tip of my tongue peeking out. I cover it up by pretending to cough behind it, and shrug apologetically to the lady passing by.

I did get one thing out of last class, though, even if it was involuntarily. The remote controlled egg somehow managed to find it's way down my backpack – _I have no idea how that happened _– and is now stuffed deep down in the pocket of my jeans waiting to be returned to Edward.

_Maybe I should have stuffed it someplace else. Imagine sitting in there__ with him, writing some hot scene, when suddenly it goes off inside of me…_

My inner walls clench at the thought and I try to suppress the urge to press my hands over my pubic bone, rubbing it against the soft flesh and giving my cooch the friction she needs. If I get myself any more worked up, Edward will probably smell my sexcitement from across the room. I am not sure that would be a good thing. Neither am I sure it would be bad, though, but I won't take the risk of finding out.

I stick my hand down the pocket of my jeans and finger the small egg hiding there. I'm not sure when the best time would be to give it to him. I could do it the first thing I do, before we get started, but that might be possibly awkward and embarrassing. I could slip it out of my pocket when he looks away and leave it for him to find by himself, but since I'm pretty sure he knows I have it, that would be even more embarrassing. A grown woman who doesn't even have the balls – _the cooch I mean_ – to give her smuttylicious teacher back his sex toy isn't very attractive. This leaves only one thing: go in, do the writing, give it back on your way out.

_Yes, that's it. The egg stays until I'm finished._

The faint mumbling inside his office has quieted, and I straighten up as I hear his footsteps getting closer. The door opens and he peeks out, giving me a crooked smile as he sees me on the chair.

"Good thing you're still here, I'm sorry I kept you waiting. I was on the phone," he says apologetically as he opens the door fully and invites me in.

"No problem. Was it an important call?" I ask sourly, immediately cursing myself inside for being such a nosy bitch. Who he speaks to on the phone is none of my business and I have no right at all to sound pissed about it. I act like a jealous teenager and I don't like it a bit. I'm a grown woman, goddammit!

He blinks at me, slightly taken aback by my tone, and then surprises me by actually blushing faintly.

"No, I mean, yes. Well. It was my mother, if you insist on knowing," he stammers, seemingly embarrassed by the fact that I heard him spend such a long time on the phone with her. If he wasn't so freaking hot I would probably come to the conclusion that he is a feeble mama's boy, but when you combine that phone call with his gorgeous face and toned body you end up with a sympathetic, loving son instead. If, on the other hand, it would have been LeiasLuke…

_Wait..__. Am I really that judgemental?_

"Oh… That's nice of you. I mean, talking to your mother and all…" I mumble through the shame of being not only a nosy bitch, but a judgemental one, too. All the things I dislike in others rolled into one person. Me.

"You think?" he asks, lighting up instantly.

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

_Yeah, I did. Apparently I'm also a liar. Shame on me._

"Well, I don't mind at all. So, shall we get started? I have a writing exercise for you this time."

He directs me to an emptied corner of his large desk, and I put my laptop down on it.

"Now, do you remember the writing exercise from a few weeks ago, where you were asked to use all your senses while describing a non sexual picture? If I remember correctly we used a forest."

_Do I remember? It was the same day I__ lay hands on your very impressive genitalia. Yes, I definitely recall that day. How could I not?_

"Yes, I remember."

"Good. I want you do use the same writing technique while describing one of the pictures I'm about to show you. The pictures show various body parts, and are more sensual than sexual. You choose how explicit you want to be, but I expect your writing to convey either sensuality or sexuality. Do you understand?"

_Yes, Master._

"I think so. How many words do I have to use?"

"I'd say between 300 and 500 words should be enough. Let me show you the pictures."

I fire up my computer and he opens the browser, typing the address to a Tumblr page. The latest posts shows five pictures, all black and white close-ups of people. I sit down on the extra chair, with my back to Edward. He leaves the office to get a cup of coffee, and I'm grateful for the privacy it brings me. I look at the pictures, trying to decide which one to choose.

_What do we have here… Oh God, how cliché. A__ woman's partly open mouth, lips covered in dark lipstick, and a fucking cherry on the way in? Uhm, I don't think so. I bet Foxycougar would dive right into that one, trying to sex it up._

_Oh, toes? Now that would be a challenge. I'm glad it's a woman's toes, though. Well groomed ladies feet with painted toe nails can be pretty sexy, but if this was man feet, with hairy toes and ingrown toenails, I would probably lose my lunch over the laptop. Maybe I should send this to LeiasLuke? He might enjoy…_

_A woman again in this picture! This one is nice, though. I like the curve of her back, the small delicate beads of water covering it, and the ass dimples… Mmmm. Wait… Is he trying to trick me into writing a lesbian scene? That would not surprise me at all, although I'd be very disappointed if he turned out to be as predictable as other men out there. Give them something lesbian, and they completely jizz themselves. Nope, not giving him this._

_Finally a man, yay! Holy shit, this is two men. Hallelujah, we have a gay picture. Oh, the way their bodies melt into each other… I like how that hand grabs the other guy's ass. If they weren't standing so close we would actually see some peen here. I guess they are pressed against each other, grinding hard… awww, happy peens. I suck at writing slash, though. I'd totally send this to Emmett. That would be so much fun._

_Okay, let's hope for the last one. Please God, let it be a male in this picture…_

…

…

_Hmmm._

…

…

_This is nice. Maybe not particularly sexual, but still… very much so. Odd. I mean, what is this? It's just the back of a man's neck, for crying out loud. And it's so… Lickable. Yes. Lickable. _

_The curls of __his hair have the perfect length for grabbing hard, or just gently pull your hands through. I bet his hair is soft. If I would bury my face in it, it would smell clean and fresh. His skin looks like velvet, how stereotypical… Look at those two moles, behind his ear, just below the hairline. They are perfect. You'd think moles would be considered a beauty flaw, but no. These are lovely. I want to run my nose over them and lick them, feel the sweet taste of his skin, before I drag my tongue across his stereotyped velvet skin up to his ear. _

_His earlobe looks real… tasty. S__mall but succulent. Ewww, that word is not sexy at all, but I can't describe it any other way. I want to take it in my mouth and suck gently, feeling the soft flesh against my tongue before I nibble on it. He would moan, and I would continue further down his neck, licking his skin, sensing his blood pulsing under my lips. I would stand behind him, flush against him, and as I got down to his shoulder I would look down his body. It would be toned, lean, with a modest amount of chest hair; because it's a man we have here, not a freaking boy._

_I would lean my chin against his shoulder and stroke his chest, teasing his nipple and feeling his heart beating quickly. His chest would heave with breaths deep and needy, and his chest hair would tickle my palm._

_He wou__ld have a beautiful happy trail of soft, light brown curls leading down towards a very hard and very large, throbbing… cock. Yes, it would be a cock, not an "erect penis" or "quivering member", or "swollen manhood". It's a cock, and it would twitch against my palm as I stroke it, just like Edward's did when I accidentally molested him outside the bar… A small drop of pre-cum would leak, and I would run my thumb across the slit, spreading it and making the head glisten…_

A sound behind me lets me know Edward is back. The scent of coffee spreads in the air as he leans over me, putting a cup down in front of me.

His closeness makes me blush, and even though I realize he is well aware of what I'm probably thinking now, seeing as he gave me the assignment, I can't help but feel strangely busted.

"I didn't know if you wanted milk or sugar in your coffee, so I brought you some on the side. Have you made up your mind about the pictures?"

_He brought me coffee?__ That's… sweet._

"Yes, I'm going with this one. The neck."

"Oh. I see. I… uhm… look forward to see what you come up with."

He grabs a book and head over to the sofa in the other end of the room, sits down, puts one leg over the other and starts to read. I begin to write, trying to create something legible out of my random thoughts. It is not easy, writing with him in the room, but I'm grateful that he's not right next to me.

Time passes, and after finishing the last lines I look it over once more, spell-checking and making a few minor adjustments. I turn my head and look at him.

_God, look at him sitting there, all immersed in the book, with his hair all messed up and his legs crossed. I could crawl over there, press his thighs apart, position myself between his legs and…_

_Oh crap. Get a grip!_

I clear my throat to get his attention.

"Edward? Err… Professor Hawkins I mean… I'm sorry. I think I'm done now. Do you want me to email it to you?"

"Please, do. I will read it later today. And you can call me Edward, if you'd like." He puts his leg down and rises from the couch, stretching slightly before walking over to me.

"Oh… Okay. Well, I should probably leave. I guess you have a lot to do, reading homework and… grading them."

_Possibly jerk off as well._

I send the email to him and get up. He sits down in his chair and opens his mailbox while I pack my bag. As I put my hand on the door knob I remember the egg is still stuffed in my pocket, and I turn around to give it to him.

He is sitting with his back to me, and as I look at him there is something very familiar about it all. I hesitate a second before I take a step closer, and that's when I see it: his neck, the soft curls, the small, yet succulent earlobe and two very distinct moles.

_His neck._

_The moles._

_Nooo…_

I stare at him as he turns around with a questioning look on his face.

"Was there something else?"

I open and close my mouth repeatedly, probably making a spot on impersonation of a fish, before my vocal chords decide to work again.

"Eh, no. I forgot. Bye."

_Asshole._

I turn my back to him and walk slowly out the door, my heart hammering in my chest and my blood swooshing through my veins. As I close the door behind me the world starts spinning, and I lean forward with my hands on my knees. I can't believe he actually gave me a picture of himself. I can't believe I actually chose that picture. I can't believe he's now sitting there, reading about what I want to do to the man in that picture – what I want to do to _him_!

_What a__ douche bag! Pervy son of a bitch… Is that how he gets off? Getting students to unknowingly write about him?_

My feelings are a confused mix of shame, anger and excitement. I am so mad that he tricked me into this, lured me into writing about him, spilling my desires like that. Because honestly? I really do want him. All those things I wrote, I want to do them.

_And then some._

I just don't want him to know, and now he does, and I feel so ashamed and embarrassed. How am I ever going to be able to look at him again? When I think about him sitting on the other side of that door, reading my words… I want to vomit.

I can't help but wonder, though: does it turn him on? Does he shift in his seat as he reads about me nibbling his ear and licking his neck? Is he touching himself, imagining me doing everything I wrote about? Because let's face it, it wouldn't be the first time he jerked off reading my homework, and as pissed off and embarrassed as I am, it still makes me feel a little good.

When the world finally stops spinning I rise slowly, taking a deep breath. The embarrassment has worn off, and the main feeling I have left is anger. I want to get back at him. I want revenge.

I briefly consider calling Netracullen, because that girl can probably plot a revenge worth its name, but I'm not ready to face the gleeful mocking that would surely follow.

_Shit. How do I get myself into these embarrassing situations all the time? I'm like a shame magnet. Double-shit._

Shaking my head in disbelief, I sling my back pack over my shoulder and hurry down the hall. I'm in desperate need of something to calm me down, and if it wasn't so foul smelling and cancer inducing I would have wished I could have a smoke.

_That seems to calm Netra down, anyway. __What do I have? Coffee, chocolate, and… and… alcohol._

_Yes! Alcohol. I totally deserve a drink. Planning my revenge will be much easier after a beer. Or a whiskey. Or maybe both?_

I hurry down the street to the local pub where we had our little game of truth or dare a few weeks ago - the place with the robust vanities in the ladies room.

_The vanities that I won't get to use in other ways than the intended._

The place is practically empty, and music is floating through the air on a low volume. I smell alcohol, steak and smoke, and it instantly makes me feel at ease. An old man in a ZZ Top worthy beard is sipping a bear in a corner, and a short, plump lady sits by a window table, furiously writing on a laptop. The bartender approaches me as I perch myself on the top of a chair by the bar.

I order a Samuel Adams Cream Stout beer and a whiskey, just because I can, and put my head in my hands. The remote controlled egg is pressing against my thigh, insistently reminding me of Edward, his neck and the things I obviously would like to do to it.

_Well, not only to his neck. It's not like I stopped there, right? I wrote very vividly about other parts of his body, too.__ I also recall describing how certain intimate locations on my own body reacted to his aforementioned body parts._

The shame hits me again, causing a stinging pain in my chest. I moan and let out a low-voiced string of profanities, words I would never use in Swedish but strangely enough feel a lot more natural in English. I down half of my beer in deep gulps and ask the bartender for a pen and a piece of paper. If I'm going to get back at him I need to be focused and organized. I'll make a list of ideas, and then break it down into pros and cons for each and every one of them.

_Yes. __This is good. But first I'll drink my beer, and order a new one._

The cold, slightly bubbly liquid runs smoothly down my throat, and I close my eyes as I savour the burnt, roasted flavour. The stinging shame in my chest is shrinking minutely, giving place for irritation and indignation. I take a deep breath, lick my lips and open my eyes. The bartender slips me the pen and paper, takes my now empty bottle and looks at me with one eyebrow raised. I nod at him, and he turns away to get me another beer. I sip my whiskey as I wait for a new bottle of the lovely dark liquid.

I tap the pen on the counter, waiting for the evil ideas to pour out and fill the paper. Unfortunately, my mind is empty, and my vicious revenge is nowhere to be seen. The bartender hands me the beer and I give him the now empty glass of whiskey.

"You want another one?" he asks.

"Yes please," I say, giving him the sweetest smile I can muster up. He is, after all, a man. Men are, by definition, assholes, at least for the time being.

_Except for Emmett. He's a nice guy. But that's probably only because he dresses in drag. If Smuthead would dress i__n drag he would never have pulled a stunt like he did today._

The alcohol is filling its purpose, giving me a warm feeling of security and raised self esteem. I stare at the blank paper.

_Okay, what do we have…_

Time passes, my second whiskey is slid towards me on the counter, and I still have no idea what to do. I purse my lips and huff at myself, not pleased with my disabilities in the revenge department.

"Is there a problem, Miss?" the bartender asks. I sigh and nod indignantly.

"Yes, actually there is. I've been properly had today, and _not_ in the good way. This guy played a real nasty trick on me, and I want to get back at him. I'm no good at plotting revenges, though. I come up with absolutely nothing."

"Well… I'm pretty good with practical jokes. Maybe I can help?"

I lift my eyes and look at him, and as his words sink in I realize it's taking a second to long for my eyes to focus on his face.

_Apparently the beer and whiskey is working a little too well._

"Really? Wow, that would be so helpful!" I exclaim, clapping my hands in delight.

_Oh God. Wh__at am I doing? Stop with the clapping already! _

I lower my hands and grab the pen, trying to put the serious face back on.

"Okay, bring it on, Mister Bartender guy."

"A classic one is the old itching powder, of course. Add it to something he uses frequently, to be sure he actually touches it."

_Itching powder? I'd have to prep his hand with it – apparently he uses that frequently. __While reading my homework. Hah. I could dip the egg in it before I give it back to him, but chances are some poor girl would have it up her taco before he gets the chance to touch it. That wouldn't be fair to her. On the other hand, any girl other than me using the egg with him deserves it._

"That's actually good… Only I don't know how to get access to his belongings long enough to do that." I chew on the pen and decide to write it down anyway, because one idea is better than no idea.

"You know, it would be a lot easier if I knew what this guy did to you. That way I'd know what sort of pranks to suggest." The bartender leans over the counter towards me, putting his chin in his hands.

_He's sort of cute, actually.__ In a very "too young for me"-way, unfortunately._

I feel the blush creeping over my face and I look down at my bottle of beer.

"Uhm, I'd rather not tell you about it. It was kind of embarrassing," I mumble before I lift the beer and take a sip.

"That's what you need, then, something embarrassing. Is he a straight guy?" he asks, cocking his head to the side.

I nod and swallow the beer before I answer. "I'm pretty sure Edward is straight, yeah. He might be swinging for both teams, but I don't think so."

"If he _is_ straight, you could always set up a profile for him on a gay dating community, giving out his number or email. You could name him… Nine Inch Eddie or something, and just sit back and enjoy as he get's indecent proposals from Günther, the German leather cop, and friends."

I snort as I imagine Edward getting phone calls with dirty suggestions from Günther. I can't help but noticing a twist in my lower regions at the thought of that particular measurement.

_Nine I__nch Eddie… How I wish that name has some truth in it…_

"Or… If he likes Brownies you can always make him a batch of funny ones. You know, add a little… herbal enhancement?" He winks at me, and I splutter my bear out and laugh uncontrollably, tears streaming down my face. The thought of a stoned McSmutty giving a lecture on lemon writing is hilarious.

"Those are good ideas you have there, Mister Bartender guy," I say with a smile as I wipe the tears away.

"It sounds to me like you need to beat him in his own game. Try to find something equally embarrassing."

I purse my lips and nod slowly. A thought forms in my head – it's a bit foggy due to the alcohol, but it clearly is the embryo of an idea. The more I think about it, the better it sounds in my now fairly intoxicated mind.

_Oh yes. I'm going to beat him in his own game._

"Thanks Mister Bartender guy, Sir," I say with a slight slur. "I know exactly what to do now. Can you do me one last favour before I leave? I need you to take a picture of me and this bottle of beer. Or more precisely, a picture of my lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle."

I hand him my phone. He takes it and stares at me incredulously.

"You want me to do what?"

"Just take the picture, all right? Make it a close-up."

"You're the boss, lady. Whatever you need," he says and raises the phone, putting it in camera mode. I turn slightly to the side, open my mouth and lift the bottle to my lips. I hear the familiar click from the phone as he takes the picture, and I grab it from him instantly.

"Great, thanks." I open the picture and snicker at it. It is a somewhat blurry close-up, but it is very obviously showing my lips wrapped around a bottle.

_Brilliant. This will do the trick._

I grab my back pack and get up from the chair. The world spins momentarily and I grab the counter to steady myself. I pay the bartender, adding a generous tip for his help and head for the door. Out in the open air I take a few deep breaths, trying to clear my head. Apparently the alcohol got to my head very quickly as soon as I stood up, because I don't recall feeling this tipsy sitting down. I shake my head and hold my phone in front of me, trying to get my eyes to focus properly on the screen. I accidentally open the Spotify app a couple of times before I manage to hit the right button. I open a new message, type Edward's phone number and attach the picture.

_God, I love this phone._

I think for a few seconds before I start typing my message.

"**Dear McSmutty. I'm on to you. ****Well guess what, I have a 'writing exercise' for you, asshole. Fuck you very much. SwedenSara"**

Very pleased with myself I hit "send", slip the phone into my pocket and head for the bus stop. I sink down at the bench, close my eyes and lean my head against the cold glass wall. My head is spinning and I suddenly feel very tired. My stomach grumbles and I realize I forgot to eat dinner before downing those two bottles of beer and whiskeys. No wonder I had a hard time hitting the right buttons on the phone.

My bus arrives and of course I stumble as I step up, earning a very unsubtle snicker from the passenger sitting close to the door. I groan and go all the way back in the bus to hide myself from the amused stares. As I slump down in the seat, my phone chimes in my pocket. I pick it up slowly with a sinking feeling in my stomach, not really daring to look at it. Somehow my terrific idea with the picture seems more like a giant disaster when I look back at it, and the stupidity of my actions hit me.

_Shit. What have I done?_

I am very much correct in assuming the incoming email is from him. I brace myself, expecting the worst as I open it up and start to read. When I'm finished I go back to the beginning and read it again, not really sure I got it correctly the first time.

**I'm mesmeriz****ed by the sight before me. Her lips, plump and kissable, look so soft and natural. There is no obvious covering of the gloop that so many women use to colour their lips. I notice their shape; the sweet little Cupid's bow and the fuller, lower lip... the fact that they're wrapped around the neck of a bottle sends my imagination spinning. **

**I wonder what ****she has been doing with the bottle. Did she just drink from it? Maybe she's used that bottle to fuck herself and her juices are still on it. I imagine her sliding it in and out, like a cold, hard glass dick, before bringing it to her mouth and slowly licking the rim of the bottle, tasting herself on it. Maybe I can lick those juices from her beautiful lips one day? God, how I want to taste her.**

**I visualiz****e those same lips, forming a perfect 'O' wrapped around my aching dick. The tongue, which I can't see but I can certainly imagine, is licking and teasing my tip; making me drip pre-cum into her eagerly waiting mouth.  
**

**I imagine**** the warm, wet sensation as she licks and sucks me. Keeping my eyes fixed on the photo, I lower my zipper, reach my hand inside my pants and begin to stroke.**

_Oh my…_

It appears I did read it correctly the first time. My mind is reeling. This little revenge of mine has taken a totally different direction than I intended, but I have to say I might actually enjoy this new turn of events.

_Does he really want me this way? That can't be possible... Maybe he didn't realize it was me in the picture. No, he's not that stupid. He must have known it was me. Yes... He's either entirely honest, or he's just messing with me._

I have absolutely no idea how to respond to this. The phone chimes again, indicating an incoming mms. I open the file and find myself staring at his hand. It is resting in his lap, his long, slender fingers relaxed. The index and middle finger is slightly bent, creating that perfect curl that can work magic inside you when used the right way.

_Holy shit on a stick. He sent me finger porn! __Oh. My. God._

I swallow loudly. There is only one way to interpret this email and the picture. He expects me to answer with a new text, apparently about his fingers. Suddenly I feel like I'm in way too deep. I'm not sure I can pull this off. I'm not entirely sure about his intentions, either. It could be just a prank, something he does with the intention to make fun of me later.

_Would he do that? I'm not sure… It seems like a stupid thing to do, considering I c__ould very easily pull the Spunk-Gate card on him if he does, and sell him out as a perverted wanker. Maybe I should just play along and see where it leads me. Right to his bed, if I'm lucky. Hell, I don't need the bed. Just lead me to his crotch, that'll do._

The drunkenness is wearing off, and I feel weakened by the lack of alcohol in my bloodstream. My defences and social filters are coming up again, and if I'm to find the courage to do this knowing it actually is him I'm writing about – _and knowing he knows I know that he knows, too… that's a lot of knowing, right there…_ – I'll need that artificial courage also known as booze again.

I put the phone away and wait impatiently for my stop to arrive, and when the bus finally reaches my destination and opens the doors I run off, almost making a fool of myself once again by tripping on my way out. I hurry back home, up the stairs, and into my apartment. I'm panting heavily as I rumble my cabinets for something to drink, and all I can find is a bottle of Cava.

_Great. _

I disregard the fact that I'll have the headache of a lifetime tomorrow – sparkling wine always does that to me – and open the bottle. I reach into the cabinet and find a teacup, fill it with the bubbly liquid, and snicker as it reminds me of a much loved fan fiction story.

_Way to get myself into the mood to write porn…_

I down the wine with a grimace and fill the cup again, before pulling my phone out. I scamper off into the bedroom and plop down on the bed. The combination of the wine and the rush home makes me warm and sweaty, and I force my sweater off, leaving only my tank top on. The spaghetti straps slide off my shoulders and I pull them up again, tucking them under the straps of my bra to keep them in place.

I take a deep breath and a mouthful of wine, and strengthened by the bubbly, liquid courage in my teacup I open the picture again.

_God, those fingers…_

I bite my lips and moan as I read the words he wrote to me. I close my eyes and think back to where I left off in my first text, the one I unknowingly wrote about his neck earlier. Well, at least part of it was about his neck. Mostly I wrote about other body parts, in fact I wrote about the same parts he was stroking with his beautiful hands in the end of his text.

I conjure up his body in my mind, and imagine what I would do to him. I'm not sure about how graphic I should be in this text. I want to please him, not only by writing something good, but also sexually. I want him to jerk off to my text again. I decide to just let the words write themselves, and edit afterwards if I need to. I empty the cup of wine, look down at the phone and start typing.

**I watch ****his hand as it strokes his hard cock, gripping it firmly and twisting around the head with every move. I slide closer; fascinated by the way he moves his hips every time, thrusting into his fist forcefully, pushing his cock towards me. I want to feel it, to taste it, and I reach for his hand, prying his fingers off and replacing them with my own. He is warm and hard against my palm, and I can feel his cock twitch, just like it did when I touched him the first time outside the bar. **

**I lower my mouth to the glistening head and dip my tongue in the pre-cum, before slowly dragging it all the way down to the base. ****His chest heaves and his hands clench as I take the balls into my mouth, one at the time, sucking gently. Grabbing my hair he forces me away from him, and I lift my face, searching for his eyes. His fingers loosen their grip and run lightly over my face, touching my lips before falling down in his lap. I rise slowly and take his hand in mine, massaging the palm and the long, slender fingers gently.**

**I push his thighs together and position myself astride his knees, still standing up, but with my legs outside his, opening myself up to him. I step closer, near enough to feel his hot breath against my naked skin, and bring his hand to my pussy. I press it against my clit, rubbing it slowly and giving me the friction I need. His long, slender fingers explore my soft slick folds, and I moan as I lower myself down in them, pushing them deep inside of me.**

I reach for the bottle of Cava and the teacup, ready to fill it up once more, but decide to simply drink directly from the bottle. I put it to my mouth and take a few quick gulps, the bubbles rising up my nose and making my eyes tear up.

_Holy shit__, that stings. _

_Can I send this?_

_What the hell… He wrote about me fucking myself with a beer bottle. He can handle it._

_Now I only need a picture…_

I send the email before I have a chance to have any second thoughts about it. Opening the camera app, I slide the straps of my top and bra down my shoulder. I turn the camera towards myself, take a picture of my shoulder, and examine the result closely. My vision starts to get unfocused again, but I'm happy with the picture. It shows nothing more than the side of my neck, my collarbone and part of my shoulder.

I type his phone number, send the picture and toss the phone on my bed, before grabbing the bottle of sparkly wine and heading to the shower. I'm still feeling much too warm and need to wash the sweat of my body. It's quite possible that I also need to get rid of some of the sexual tension that has taken residence between my legs.

One shower – and an orgasm – later I sink down on the bed, putting the half empty bottle beside me. I intentionally avoid looking at my phone, because I'm curious as hell but still very nervous. The way I see it, there are three possibilities. One, he hasn't answered yet. Two, he has, but only to tell me to stop sending him those texts and pictures, and that I'm very close to crossing the line for sexual harassment. Three, he has sent me what I'm hoping for – a new text and another picture.

I don't dare to check, because if it's option number one I'll feel so very stupid. If it is option number two I'll feel even more stupid. Option number three will definitely make me happy, but it also scares the shit out of me because I haven't figured out why he does this. This means chances are two to three that I'll feel stupid, and one to three that I'll be happy but confused. The odds are against me, for sure.

I lean back against the cushions, grab the bottle of Cava and peer down the opening. I look at the liquid swishing about down there, and quickly down the rest of the precious alcohol. The heat from the shower, the lack of proper food and the unhealthy mixture of drinks are starting to take their toll, and I yawn. I debate whether or not I should go to bed, but realize I probably won't get much sleep anyway, not knowing if he has answered or not. I close my eyes with the intention to just rest for a bit, and I am just about to doze off when I hear the chiming sound from my phone. My eyes jerk open instantly.

_That could be__ an email._

I stare at my phone. It's lying there with its back to me, mocking me, daring me to pick it up. Another chime follows and I throw myself at it.

_Two chimes can only mean one thing. One email and one picture._

I get to the picture first, moaning loudly as I lay eyes on the screen. It is perfect.

_This is too good to be true. __It's jaw porn, for crying out loud!_

His jaw, perfectly outlined, square and covered with a light scruff, has made its way through the night to my phone, and it's glorious.

I fall back on the bed, holding the phone close to my face. An urge to lick the screen overwhelms me, and I dart my tongue out, following his jaw line with the tip. The phone tastes hideous. Not at all like the real thing would.

_Did I just lick my phone?__ Technology does not taste good._

I smack my tongue against my palate, still feeling the chilly sensation from the cold screen and the foul, almost bitter taste.

_Have they not considered a girl might want to lick a screen now and then? __They should definitely make them more lick-friendly. If they can make strawberry-flavoured condoms they can quite certainly make a screen taste better._

My phone still has a wet trail on it, and as I wipe it off with my thumb the picture disappears.

_Fucking stupid touch screen phone… I need to open this __picture on my computer later so I can properly caress the beauty that is this jaw._

Somewhere in the back of my mind, the more sober version of me tries to convey the idea that licking and caressing pictures of a man's jaw on a screen is maybe not an entirely normal thing to do. Fortunately, the current, less sober me, doesn't listen to that at all, because honestly? The sober version would so want to lick that, too. She just wouldn't dare, because it might seem odd.

_Well, screw odd__ and lick it, for fuck's sake. You know you want to…_

With the picture out of sight my brain functions properly enough to remember the email, and I open it up. I believe I sent him something with my shoulder, and I have to say I'm more than curious to see what he made of it. I roll over on my stomach, rub my eyes, focus on the text, and read.

**He watches intently as she slides the bra strap off her shoulder to reveal soft, creamy skin. There's a curve where her slender neck and shoulder meet, but it is her collar bone, strong yet somehow fragile, that beguiles him.**

_**Clavicle**_**, he thinks, smiling to himself. He has a guilty pleasure – aside from her – a passion he's had almost all his life, an intense love. Music. It has been his salvation on many occasions, and just now, when he thought of her clavicle, word association forced him to recall memories of a particular instrument he'd once played - a clavichord, rare and beautiful, a work of art with the most amazing tone and resonance.**

**He imagines how he will play her, with tender caresses. He wants to make her sing; he knows her sounds will be delightful. He slides a single finger across her, tracing the thin layer of skin, barely touching, and she sighs – it is music to his ears. As his lips touch her, she hums with pleasure. He is going to take his time. She will be his masterpiece.**

I swallow.

_Did he just write that to me?_

I go back and read it all again.

_I think he did._

I shift in my bed, pressing my thighs together and bucking my hips into the bed. I am not above humping the mattress after reading this, because fuck, that was hot and I need some tension relief right now. The previous session in the shower helped momentarily with the tension situation but if he keeps sending me texts like this I am going to need more than just the shower nozzle. I'm going to need me some Nine Inch Eddie.

I flip through the phone and open the picture again. My mouth is watering by the sight of that jaw, but with the taste of the screen in close memory I refrain from licking it again. Instead I run my tongue over my lips and try to think of what to write.

**That jaw… I**** imagine nibbling my way across it, from his ear and all the way to his chin. He has this pretty little scar under his chin, and I would lick it slowly, feeling the scruff against my tongue, before continuing up towards his mouth. I would stop at the small dimple he has in his chin, rubbing my nose across it, revel in the friction and inhaling the scent of his skin. It would smell clean and warm, with a slight hint of musk and sandalwood.**

**I would dart my tongue out and drag it across his lips before sucking in his soft lower lip, and then we would kiss. It would be the kind of long, lingering kiss that slowly builds and gets more urgent, and then he would drag his scruffy face down my neck and across my collarbone. He would pause over my breasts; just lightly brushing against them with his cheek and making my skin break out in goose bumps. I would raise my chest, pushing it against him, urging him to take my nipples in his mouth, but he wouldn't. Instead he'd continue further down along my side, rubbing his scruff against my skin and tickling my soft tummy.**

**He would push my legs apart, and he would slide down between them, pressing his mouth against me. His scruff would be in sharp contrast to his smooth, soft wet tongue, and it would feel amazing against my silky flesh. I would press my thighs together, capturing his face between my legs and keeping him there forever.**

_You bet your fine ass I would. I'd never let __you go. Your face would be caught in the cunt trap forever, or at least until I let you go so I can kiss your pretty lips and invite Mr Nine Inch Eddie to where he belongs - which is inside of said trap. Deep inside._

_Okay, time to send… There we go. Good phone. Now prepare for picture time._

I roll over on my back again, and scoot up against my pillows. The robe I put on after the shower has opened up, revealing my body. I hold the phone above my naked legs and take a close-up picture of my neatly folded thighs. I don't even think twice about it before I press send.

I pull up his last text and read it again. He doesn't even mention sex. He talks about music and instruments, and still it is unbelievably hot. Suddenly my own texts seem crass and harsh. In comparison to his, mine are unoriginal porn without plot, lacking both imagination and fantasy. This was soft and tender, sweet and sexy, and I can't believe he wrote it to _me_.

I scoot down under the covers. I don't know what to make of this. My mind works at the speed of a snail with all the alcohol, and I decide I need to sleep on it. It will all make more sense tomorrow. I close my eyes, and it feels like my bed is floating in the air, slowly spinning like a carousel. It reminds me of being a kid, spinning around on the living room floor until falling to the ground, giggling. I turn to my side, causing a shift in the illusion of a carousel, and I doze off to the illusion of lying in a large swinging cradle.

…

…

…

_My head hurts._

_Why does my mouth taste like someone took a dump in it?_

_Who turned the lights on?_

I open my eyes a little, wincing at the too bright light that is relentlessly filling the room. Apparently I forgot to close the blinds last night, and I can't figure out why. I always close the blinds. I turn my head and moan at the sudden pain coursing through it. It feels like I have Bob the Builder and friends driving around inside.

_Oh, crap. Did I go to a party last night?__ Why would I do that?_

I stare at the empty bottle of Cava standing next to the bed.

_Why is there a bottle next to my bed?_

I furrow my eyebrows and try to remember last night. I vaguely recall being at a bar talking to the bartender, being angry at Edward, fragments of a bus ride, and taking a shower. I blush as I think of the shower. That, I _do_ remember. My eyes fall on my phone, and something stirs in my mind.

_There was something about the phone._

_And why was I angry at Edward?_

I hesitantly pick up the phone, nervous about what I'll find. The screen is black, but when I touch it a picture emerges. It's a picture of my thighs – my _naked_ thighs. Very slowly things start to come back to me. I remember the tutoring session and unknowingly writing about Edward's neck. I remember sitting at the bar, wanting to get back at him. Somewhere between the bus ride and my apartment things get a bit blurry, but I seem to have evidence in my phone what was going on. I browse through my last sent pictures and emails.

_Oh no… Tell me I didn't…_

_Oh yes, I did._

_I__ am in so much trouble. _

I swallow hard and open the emails and pictures that were sent to me yesterday. Correction: I open the ones sent to me _from Edward_.

_Fuck._


	9. What's your kink?

**Hello again, dear readers! We've noticed some new reviewers and story alerts, which we greatly enjoy. We hope you'll like the rest of this ride! We've been slow on updates, we know, but since SwedenSara finished her WIP last week she'll be able to focus on this story a lot more. As always, we don't own Edward and the boys, Stephenie does. Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

_**What's your kink? **By Netracullen_

The music floats through my car and I find myself singing along, in an unusually good mood given the time of day.

I find myself smirking when I think about how things have changed since I've enrolled in Smutiversity. I'd met the girls, who were great, as well as the giant buffoon, Professors Perv and Withboner. I wonder where things are going, considering the way things are shaping up at the moment. Jill's been subtle, for sure, but she's got a serious girl-boner for the blonde, southern professor. I can't say I blame her, that voice and those eyes... wow.

Sexface and Sara - there's no point in here even pretending that she isn't crushing on him like crazy. Again, it's completely understandable, but seeing her coming out her shell and giving him a run for his money makes me smile, especially when she cracked the whip about the whole FoxyCougar thing. I wonder how things played out in their tutoring session that afternoon, and resolve to ask her about it. I hope she didn't back down when he gave her the puppy dog face, or did the whole delightfully-awkward-and-befuddled-thing he has a tendency to do. A man like that needs a bit of a spark in his life, and she's exactly the one to give it to him.

_Ha, give it to him._

I roll my eyes at myself when the immature thought crosses my mind. There's another unforeseen part in all this: Emmett... or Emmeline, as the case may be.

Sigh.

Since the post-Emmeline-bathroom incident, things had been... tense, to say the very least. We'd barely spoken, acting like awkward 14 year olds after a game of seven minutes in heaven, which is fucking ridiculous because this shit shouldn't phase me at all. It shouldn't make me feel a little lightheaded when I think about him picking me up like I was nothing and tossing me against a wall, pressing his hard chest against my soft one while -

Let's just stop that before it begins.

Emmett's hot, for sure, but he's just... _Emmett._ He's immature and a borderline porn addict and makes stupid jokes and claims he can do things he can't and eats like a bear bulking up for hibernation. He's crass and a perpetual skeeze and he's loud and cheeky and has those great arms and those pretty blue eyes and he -

No.

The awkward feeling descends again as I pull into the parking lot, and I feel like blushing, but I don't do that kind of thing so I dismiss the thought at once. I distract myself by checking my makeup and hair in the mirror before fishing through my bag for a smoke. I'm a terrible fidget, especially when I'm feeling this gross, butterflies-in-my-stomach crap, so I figure having something to do with my hands is a good idea.

I climb out of the car and start towards the building, only to hear a loud whistle. I turn and see the behemoth in question jogging towards me with a smile.

_There's a much better use for your hands - wrapping around those biceps... or something else._

I swear, if my my internal monologue was a person, I'd strangle them with my bare hands.

I light the cigarette and the nicotine haze helps me to drown out the horrifying thoughts that seem to be plaguing me all too often lately.

"Hey you!" he calls out as he reaches me, reaching for my bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Jesus," he groans, "what do you have in this thing?"

"Torture equipment," I deadpan. His smile turns dark.

"Don't tempt me, woman," he says, his voice deeper, "I actually enjoy this class, and you're going to convince me to ditch if you keep talking like that."

I block out my mental slut before she can say anything which would convince me to ditch with him. Instead I just elbow him playfully in the ribs. He wraps a gigantic arm around my shoulder in response, pulling me into him with a force that I can't even begin to compete with.

_Like you want to_.

We stay like this until we enter the classroom, and I manoeuvre myself out of his grip as I see the twin smirks on Sara and Jill's faces. _Bitches_. Emmett seems unaffected by my slight shun, and drops my bag on the desk in front of my usual seat before taking his own beside me.

"Ladies," I greet them as I slide into my own place. Jill gives a nod in response and Sara just smiles bigger.

"So what's the go for today?" I ask with a nod towards Professor Sexface, who is gathering his notes at his desk.

"I'm not sure," Jill responds with a shrug.

"Well... did he say anything about it at tutoring?" I try to catch Sara's eyes, but she looks like she's tuned out completely. I wave my fingers in front of her face. "Hello?"

"What?" she asks, broken from her trance.

"Tutoring," I repeat, rolling my eyes slightly. "Did Sexface mention what today's talk would be about?"

She has that slight disoriented look again.

"Sara!"

I put my hand on her arm and she jumps in her chair.

"Oh!" she cries. "No... no he didn't mention it."

"... Cool." I look at Jill who seems just as perplexed as I am.

"What the hell was that?" I hear a low voice in my ear, and nearly jump myself. I turn back to face Emmett, bringing our faces alarmingly close. My eyes flicker down to his mouth, then back to his eyes and I pull myself away a little.

He's smirking again.

_God he smells good._

"I'm not sure, it seems that Sara's a bit of a lostie today," I muse, trying to distract myself. Edward stands up and I assume class is about to start, so I face the front. He clears his throat and begins to speak.

"Ok, ladies and gents, let's get into it."

Emmett snickers at the teacher saying 'into it', and I hate that I know that. I may also snicker a little bit myself.

"This week, we're going to delve into the wide world... of kink."

Emmett actually lets out a cheer at this, and although everyone else manages to contain themselves, there is a palpable sense of nervous excitement in the room. Edward just laughs gently and continues.

"Ok, let's all calm ourselves. I'd like you all to keep an open mind about this. I know that there is a stigma attached to the idea of a fetish, but really, it's nowhere near as sordid or dirty as many people seem to believe it is. In reality, a fetish is just a specific setting, look or practice that makes sex more appealing to you. It might be whips and chains, or voyeurism, but it might be as simple as having a preference for blond haired men, or women in glasses."

I notice that his eyes flick to Sara, just for a split second, as those words leave his mouth. Her eyes are fixed on the wall behind him, but the way she's pressing her lips together makes me sure that she's holding in some other reaction to him.

_And I want to know what the hell went down in their tutoring session._

"Just to get the ball rolling," Edward speaks again, "I want each of you to put forward a particular kink, or fetish, that you can think of. Hopefully they'll help you to not only come up with something for this week's task, but also to broaden your perspectives when it comes to sex. You never know what might appeal to others, or even to you, until you inform yourselves."

We all take a moment to absorb his words.

"Okay," he claps his hands together in an anticipatory way before he holds a whiteboard marker up to the board attached to the wall, "who wants to go first?"

"Necrophilia!"

LeiasLuke. Of course.

"Alright," he sighs, "I'll put that one down, but let's all note that molesting corpses is not only morally questionable and highly unsanitary behaviour, but it is also illegal."

Other members of the class contribute their own, less unsavory ideas.

"Feet."

"Bondage."

"Group sex."

"Younger men."

Jill, Sara and I roll our eyes in unison when FoxyCougar puts forward that suggestion.

"Role-playing."

"Vampirism."

"Yes, that seems rather trendy as of late," Edward notes with a small laugh.

"Pregnancy."

"Leather."

"Clowns."

Emmett laughs loudly at his own offering and I look at him, shocked. I like to think of myself as fairly knowledgeable about sex, but this has thrown me completely.

"Clowns? Are you serious right now?"

"Oh yeah," he chuckles, "it's a real thing. I got a free DVD once and let me assure you, it was absolutely hilarious. You're welcome to come for another sleepover and have a look if you like."

He winks, and I can feel Sara and Jill looking at me when he mentions our sleepover, something I'd deliberately withheld from them.

Shit.

The other, sluttier part of me is already contemplating the porn-viewing night at Emmett's house, and wondering exactly what he has in the depths of what I assume to be a vast collection of erotica.

_Maybe after that we can do a practical demonstration of what we've seen. Minus the clown costume, of course._

I cover my face with my hands, trying to break myself from my conjectures so I can focus on trying to act like a normal person rather than the sex-crazed miscreant that I seem to be quickly becoming.

When I finally look back up at my surroundings, Professor Perv is staring at me expectantly. I then realise that it's my turn to suggest a fetish, and scramble through my mental database of sexy things until I land on something no one on the list has mentioned as yet.

"Piercings?"

I can see Emmett looking at me sideways, but I don't look back.

"Yep, that's actually a fairly common fetish," Edward notes as he writes it down then turns back to the class. "Sara, do you have a fetish? To add to the list, I mean."

I turn my head to Sara with an evil smile on my face, because I definitely had not missed the double meaning in his words.

"Uh..."

She looks slightly befuddled, most likely because our charming teacher's expression has darkened significantly, and if he was looking at me like that I'd likely be a drooling mess on the floor.

"Yeah, Sara," I taunt, breaking them from their little staring contest, "what's your kink?"

She looks me dead in the eye, her gaze steely.

"Asphyxiation."

I burst out laughing when I realise that she's threatening to strangle me in front of the whole class, who seem a little surprised that the bespectacled swede would be into a rather extreme, and potentially dangerous sexual practice such as that. Edward clears his throat to get our attention back.

"Yes, that's a good one - although I wouldn't recommend trying it without significant research and preparation as it carries a lot of risk."

All eyes fall on Jill, who is the last one to give a suggestion. She looks nervous, but squares her shoulders and confidently speaks.

"Public sex."

"Jill - you're a badass! Who knew?" Emmett laughs, and Jill gives him an evil look.

"Now now, just because people have offered various fetishes does not necessarily mean that they partake in them," Edward intervenes. "Or are you admitting to a clown fetish, Emmett? We won't judge you."

The behemoth at my side promptly quits taunting Jill as he becomes the laughing stock of the class.

"Ok," Edward states once the laughter dies down, "now that we've compiled a list and your minds are opened to the wide world of kink, it's time for this week's task. I want you to write me a fetish scene. You're not going to tell me beforehand what the particular fetish is, but I expect that by the end of the piece, I'll know what the fetish is, and I'll appreciate that even though it may not be in line with my own sexual preferences, it can still be sexy. You'll be rewarded for choosing a more outlandish fetish and still making the piece erotic, so be as creative as you can.

"That said, anything involving pedophilia, necrophilia, or any other illegal practices will not be accepted."

Those words only really apply to LeiasLuke, who seems to have absolutely no concept of what is sexy, and a knack for writing things that make people feel a little bit ill.

We pack up our belongings and I try to sneak away before Sara and Jill can get to me, because I know that the inquisition is going to be brutal.

"Where do you think you're going, missy?" Jill asks, looping her arm through mine. Sara does the same thing on my other side, so that they're able to lead me away from my car and in the direction of the coffee shop down the street.

"Can I come with you guys?" Emmett asks as he jogs up behind us.

"Of course you can!" I cry, desperate to avoid the conversation.

"No, you can't," Sara says in an authoritative tone, and although he pouts and slumps his shoulders dramatically, Emmett walks off, leaving me alone and completely defenseless.

"Don't leave me!"

"There's no hope for you now," Jill murmurs ominously as they drag me off.

"So, a sleepover?" Sara asks once we're seated with coffees. I'd made another unsuccessful attempt to get away while they were ordering, and so had resigned myself to my fate - a very uncomfortable conversation.

"It was after that night at the bar... I was too drunk to go home, so I stayed. He slept on the couch, it really wasn't a big deal, it's not like anything has ever happened between us." My speech gets quicker and quicker as I make excuses because I really, _really_ don't want to tell them about the post-Emmeline bathroom incident.

"Really?" Jill asks, looking very suspicious.

"Yeah, it's Emmett - gross. So Sara, what happened at tutoring this week? Shit was pretty damn weird today in class."

Sara immediately looks away, and I'm impressed at my awesome diversion skills. Jill however, keeps her eyes on me, as if she's looking for some kind of proof that I'm lying. I refuse to make eye contact with her, keeping my eyes on the blushing swede sitting across from me, fiddling with her coffee cup in a decidedly nervous way.

"Please don't make me do this," she whines.

"Oh come on. I spilled the deets on the sleepover. Don't be such a pussy."

She makes a face and takes a deep breath.

"I think I've really screwed up, and I have no idea what to make of it all. I'm so incredibly embarrassed. I can't even look at him."

And so she goes on, telling us about the whole neck debacle, and the drinking, and the pictures, and the emails. As she quiets we stare at her, trying to process this information and barely succeeding. He managed to trick her into writing a sexual text about himself? And instead of pretending like nothing was up, she decided to get back at him, and they ended up exchanging emails that are probably enough for both of them to sue for sexual harassment?

I'm lost for words, both at the Professor living up to his nickname as a bit of a perv, and with Sara's response to the situation. Honestly, I didn't think she had it in her, and yet she stood up to him, and from the sounds of things, beat him at his own game.

I look over at Jill, who looks just as dumbstruck as I am. When I finally find my voice again, all I can do is burst out in hysterical laughter.

"Way to go, girl!" I lean over to high-five her, and she raises her hand hesitantly for me to smack.

"I'm so proud of you, I couldn't have played it better myself. You have him. Hook, line and sinker, baby. Shit, I don't think I could have pulled that off - congratulations!"

She's still blushing like crazy, but she smiles a tiny little bit.

"Thanks," she murmurs, pushing her glasses up on her nose. She has that whole sexy-nerd thing working for her, and paired with the whole hot-for-teacher thing that seems to light her fire, the pair seem like a match made in heaven.

"So," I start, ready for a change in topic before Sara blushes herself to death, "what are you guys going to write about for the kink project?"

A cunning smile crosses Jill's face when I bring it up.

"It's a surprise," she says ominously.

"Oh, come on! Just spill it already."

She just shakes her head, laughing slightly to herself. I pout and groan, but then move on to Sara.

"I'm not sure yet," she muses, "I might go with group sex."

"Dirty girl," I tease, but after hearing her story about Professor Perv, I'm not entirely kidding.

"How about you?" she asks me.

"Honestly, I have no clue. I'll probably wing it at 11pm the night before."

We all laugh, even though in all likelihood that's exactly what will end up happening.

"Jill, will you _please _tell me what you're doing? I don't like secrets." I know I'm whining, but I don't care - patience is absolutely not one of my virtues.

"Nope, sorry girls. You'll find out once I've had it marked by the _Professor_."

The way she highlights that word makes me both excited to see what she's come up with, and for some reason, a little bit nervous.

I cannot _wait_ for next week's class.

* * *

**Next chapter is being written by SwedenSara as we speak, and it'll be EPOV! Yay! Please visit our profiles and read what we have there while you wait for the next chapter!**


	10. Working out the kink

**Welcome back, dear readers. Today we have a special treat for you - our very own McSmutty is marking homework again! We hope you enjoy, if not... well, you can't win them all! Thanks to FangMom for helping us getting this in shape.  
**

**Stephenie owns Edward Cullen. Edward Hawkins, on the other hand, owns us.**

* * *

_**Working out the kink. **__By Edward Hawkins_

I feel the bile rise as I put LeiasLuke's assignment down. I thought – no, I hoped – he wouldn't stoop any lower than that Wookie wack-off thing, and here he is, proving me wrong. I want to gouge my eyes out and bleach my brain, and I will never ever be able to go to the circus, or any other place possibly presenting a clown, again, without wondering if it's LeiasLuke in the costume. Although judging from the piece he wrote, he wouldn't be. He'd be behind the clown, with his pants by the ankles, humping it fervently like a horny little dog.

_Maybe I should call McDonald's and warn them about a potential Ronald McDonald molestor._

I really did not need that mental image. I guess he managed to show what fetish he chose, only I'm thinking he failed the part where he was supposed to make it sexy. I can't even think of something to comment on his homework. Part of me wants to run it through the shredder, pretending I never even got the damned thing, but I'm too much of a professional to go through with it.

I slump forward, put my head against the desk, and decide I need something to wipe the clown sex off my brain. I hastily reach for the next assignment, hoping that it's a little less traumatizing.

_Well, well, well, Miss Netracullen. Let's see what you have for me today. Is it possibly inspired by that burly, muscular male specimen who you obviously have the hots for? I think it may be._

**The Pair by Netracullen**

**As soon as she slipped them on, she'd felt a sense of power settle over her. She'd bought them for this very purpose, and the moment she'd laid eyes on them - sitting proudly on their own platform in the store - she'd known they were the ones. They wouldn't make her as tall as him - nothing short of a pair of stilts would - but she felt tall in them. Powerful. Commanding.**

_Ah. I'm guessing this is about shoes, since she feels tall. Still not sure, though. Some tense confusion in the first sentence._

Watch the tense in the first sentence,  
"she'd" should be "she".

**She knocked on the door and waited patiently for him to call out the typical instruction.**

**"Come on in!"**

**She turned the doorknob, relishing the ever-surging excitement that was centered deep in her stomach.**

**"What can - oh, hey baby!"**

**He looked surprised, but happy, to see her standing in his doorway. She slowly closed the door and turned back to him, her eye hooded and half a smile on her face. Her voice was clouded with lust when she returned the greeting.**

"_Her eye hooded" - is she one-eyed? A pirate? Or are we writing a Cyclops fetish, maybe? I'd better not say that out loud. LeiasLuke would probably write it, and I'm not convinced the outcome would be good._

I think you meant eyes.

**"Hey yourself."**

**Without another word, she crossed his office and unbuttoned the trench coat she had on, dropping it carelessly to the ground behind her. This left her in her expensive lacy underwear... and the shoes.**

_Oh I like this... _

**"Holy fuck," he breathed as she straddled his lap, the end of the phrase cut off by her mouth crashing down on his. He matched her eager kiss, effortlessly lifting her from his lap and placing her down on the edge of the desk. Their lips remained joined as she removed her own bra and moaned at the feel of his fingers trailing down her smooth legs, taking her panties with them. When he reached the bottom of her leg he moved to take off the shoes, but she broke away from him to intervene.**

**"Leave them on."**

_The heels it is, then._

**Her command seemed to spark something in him, and he voraciously attacked her mouth once again, groaning when her fingers deftly opened his belt buckle and undid his pants. His tie was next to go, and they both ignored the sound of buttons scattering on hardwood when she yanked his shirt open.**

_I wonder which one has the shoe fetish? Maybe both? This whole office thing definitely has some merit though..._

**Within seconds, he was inside her, forcing her to bite down on the skin of his shoulder to muffle a scream. Her legs locked around his back, pushing him deeper with every thrust as she struggled to maintain her silence. Their pace was furious, papers and stationary falling from the desk as his large body surrounded and owned hers. She clutched broad shoulders, tried to find purchase in his short hair and constantly fought the urge to moan and scream and beg for more.**

**Her orgasm hit quickly and with shattering force, leaving her shuddering and whimpering in his arms as he raced toward his own release. Lost to the pleasure coursing through her system, she hardly noticed when he stilled inside her just moments later. He hugged her small body to him as they both regained some sense of the world, and then he let her go.**

**She hastily clasped her bra, pulled her trench coat back on, and walked to the door, smiling saucily over her shoulder at him, breathless and slightly dazed in his chair with his shirt tails still untucked. She left the office unable to keep that same smile off her face. The sound of her shoes clicking on the floor of the car park made her laugh just a little to herself - they'd been a worthwhile investment indeed.**

Well done.

The only thing I might suggest is  
that you delve further into the impact  
that the fetish had on their encounter.  
Obviously they both have an affinity  
for the shoes, but how does it affect  
the sex itself?

_She does have pretty good head on her shoulders, behind those cigarette fumes. I actually kind of want to go fuck someone - one person in particular comes to mind - in heels right now._

I adjust myself, put the paper aside and pick up the next one. The name on it makes me cringe. This Foxycougar woman may be my least favourite person in class, even when counting LeiasLuke. He's creepy alright, but at least he has a modest amount of writing talent. Unlike her, he hasn't tried to make a pass at me, which definitely works in his favour.

I wonder if Sara's emails would count as hitting on me… If so, she's more than welcome. To be honest, my responses to her pictures were my way of trying to let her know how she affects me, but I'm a bit worried she didn't appreciate it. This could very well be a sexual harassment suit waiting to happen, if I've misread her. She's not the obvious type of person, and I have trouble knowing how to act around her. The episode at the bar was just… awkward. Any woman would have left the table after my rant on pens. Fucking fountain pens, for crying out loud! Way to pick up a girl, Eddie. She did touch my cock that night, though. Very random and not at all on purpose, but judging from that email I got, she wouldn't be opposed to touching it again… and then some.

_Focus, dammit! Just get this thing over with, then you're free to spin whatever fantasies your mind can conjure._

**The Beauty and the Beast… by Foxycougar**

_Oh no… That title is infinitely better than her last one, but still… A little more originality would be good. Not to mention, using that as a title when publishing a fetish story online is the definition of a bad idea. It would surely not amuse the mothers who find themselves in need of explaining this odd version of the well-known fairytale to their young daughters._

Your title is better this time, although  
I suggest you change it slightly to make  
it more original and divert it from the  
actual fairytale. You do not want young  
children to find your story when googling  
The Beauty and the Beast.

**Tyler went to the freezer and took out the glass dildo. It was cold, just like a vampire's member would be. She would be pleased. He filled a bowl of cold water, dumped some ice in it, and went to the bedroom. She is lying on the bed, already naked and slopping wet. The proud nipples on her globes were standing up, calling to him. **

_Wow. She really hasn't improved at all. She may actually have gotten worse, which I didn't think was a possibility. She makes the same mistakes as last time. Did she not pay any attention to my comments?_

Watch the tense. You switched  
from past tense to present, just  
like you did in your last assignment.  
Again, you need to choose a style  
and stick with it. Combining  
members, proud nipples and  
globes with dumping ice and  
slopping wet pussy does not make  
good erotica.

**He made his way over to the bed, dipped his hands in the ice cold water for a minute and dried them off on a towel. When he roamed his cold hands over her tight little body she moaned and sighed, "Oh baby, just like Edward. That's it." He touched her womanly mound, seeing her glistening folds part and her swilling clitoris peek out, and he put a piece of ice in his mouth before he went down on her, eating her out for all his worth.**

_And we have Edward again, of course. How original to make this not only a vampire fetish, but an Edward fetish. Swilling clitoris? Is she fucking kidding me? The combination of the words "glistening folds" and "eating her out" may be one of the biggest turn-offs this semester._

Watch out for errors. I think you mean  
"swelling clitoris," not "swilling,"  
and the correct expression is "for all  
he is worth." It's good that you use  
spell check now, but please make  
sure that the words fit. Even if they  
are not spelled wrong per se, they  
might be wrong in this particular  
context. Again – stick to a style, and  
beware of too heavy use of euphemisms.

**She gasped when his cold tongue played with her button, just like she knew Edward would have done. "Please, I want you inside Edward," she begged, and he complied, bringing the ice cold dildo close to her entrance. He swirled it around for a while, up and down her dripping wet folds, before pushing it inside in one hard push.**

_I don't even know what to comment on this. Ugh. Seriously, I don't get this at all. What woman would want an ice cold mouth on her pussy, let alone a snow cone inside of it? I just cannot imagine that to be pleasant. The clitoris would go into hibernation and not come out again for years. The insides would get frost damaged, and I don't think hypothermia in your reproductive organs is recommended. What a nice thing to tell your parents. "I'm sorry. You'll never have grandchildren because I had to amputate my vagina after being involved in some vampire role-play." _

Consider rephrasing the last  
sentence to avoid repetition  
of the word "push". You might  
also want to extend the piece. It  
seems a bit abrupt in the end.

I'm a bit upset by the fact that she chose the same way to write the vampire fetish as so many other women the last two years. What happened to the sexual ecstasy brought by the old fashioned vampire characters? The underlying sexuality in the biting, sucking and nibbling on the skin, the claim to ownership and possession must be much more arousing than a popsicle cock. These traits can easily be used in the kind of fan-fiction most of the women in my class write, and yet, they still go with the goddamn ice. The sexiest thing about this Cullen guy can hardly be his cold skin. I'd rather see him as dark, twisted and sexual, than a chaste guy with severe circulation issues.

_My God, that was just... unsexy is nowhere near strong enough. It could be used as a surefire method of achieving immediate impotence. Teenage boys the world over would pay handsomely for instant relief from awkward boners just from reading this abomination of a story._

I push my chair back and run my hands through my hair before I grab the next paper. The title makes me sit up straight in my chair.

**Caught Out of Bounds by JillM12**

_A teacher/student lemon, perchance? Don't mind if I do._

"**Miss Sarah, what are you doing out here on your own?" he asks, his voice full of surprise and indignation. "You know this area is out of bounds."**

_Uh... what? Miss Sarah?_

**She turns, shocked at being caught.**

**"Oh, Mr Hawken, I was just..."**

_Oh no. No, no, no. This is not good. This is... Fuck. Mr Hawken? Miss Sarah and Mr fucking __**Hawken**__? Am I that obvious?_

**"Loitering out of bounds," he finishes for her, stepping closer. "It's not safe for you to be out here on your own, Miss Sarah. Anything could happen and no one would see."**

**She leans against the brick wall behind her, holding his gaze with a tiny, private smile.**

**"Maybe that's what I want."**

_Oh you want it, alright..._

My hand drifts south and slowly massages my hardening cock, feeling the erection rise again after being temporarily disabled by Foxycougar's less than sexy vamp story.

**He walks forward, seemingly unable to stop himself from advancing on her. Her eyes, covered with delicate glasses, hypnotize him, compelling him forward without his concious choice to do so. He's wanted her all year, but had forced down the thoughts, knowing how very risky and inappropriate it would be to take her in any of the ways he wanted her... and there were many of them.**

_Oh there are many indeed... Right then and there, for one._

I should be infuriated by the fact that she's so obviously writing about Sara and myself. I _am _angry, but I'm also growing increasingly horny and that seems to cloud my judgment. I find it hard to focus on anything else than seeing my fantasy come alive on paper, and I don't even bother to stop and make a comment about that spelling error.

**But now... now they are alone, in a place no one would look for them, and he finds himself unable to subdue what he'd been fighting back for so long. Finally, **_**finally**_**, they make contact, his chest touching hers just slightly as he closes in on her.**

**"What is it that you want, Miss Sarah?" he asks, his voice so quiet and filled with all the want he'd tried so hard to repress.**

**"I think you know what I want, Sir."**

_Jesus._

**Her tone matches his and he is undone.**

**In a lightening fast move, he wraps a strong, large hand around her neck and pulls her head backwards, exposing the smooth skin of her decolletage. His lips attack her throat and he is immersed in her scent - light and floral - delicate, like her. She presses her hips into his, mewling in surprise and raw lust at his sudden attack.**

**"I want you," he growls into her skin, maddened by the intensity of his desire. "All fucking year I've wanted you. Tell me I can have you."**

**"Take me," she pleads, then yelps in shock when he turns her around. Her hands slap onto the brick wall and she feels him, starting at the backs of her knees and trailing long fingers up her thighs until they are under her skirt and then under the hem of her girlish cotton panties.**

**"Say it again," he murmurs in her ear, his warm breath and close proximity only intensifying her need.**

_Yes... Say it. Out loud._

**"Take me, please," she begs, and he is lost. Her panties fall to her ankles under his touch and she looks over her shoulder with wide blue eyes as he rips off his belt and opens his pants. She knows this will not be tender or gentle, but she craves it, wanting his desperation... it matches her's so perfectly.**

_I think maybe there is a possessive pronoun error here but I can't really think straight at the moment._

**He steps back to her, pressing himself against her small body at every possible point of contact and slides himself inside of her. His eyes roll back into his head when he finally has her the way he's thought about so many times before, and the long sound from her makes him think he's not the only one. He slides in and out of her wet heat a few times, acclimating her to his rather considerable size, then notices her hands clenching into fists against the red bricks.**

**"Harder," she begs, her voice husky and saturated with desire, "I need it harder."**

_I swear to God, if she says that when I finally take her - because I will have her - I'm going to explode._

**The words change something inside him and he drives back into her forcefully, pressing her small body into the brickwork with the intensity of his action. She cries out, accepting everything he gives her as he pounds her into oblivion, screaming and moaning and begging for more. His lips find her neck, nipping and biting at the skin there as he takes what he's wanted for so long, insane with the lust and needing more, more, more. One arm wraps around her slim waist to tether her to him, the other finds her clit, rubbing in swift circles that make her entire frame start to shake.**

**Her body folds in on itself as she comes, her shoulders hunching and her back bowing as she unravels... because of him. Her inner walls clutch him with excruciating tightness and he is senseless, delivering one, two, three more thrusts before he explodes inside her, his mouth on her skin and his hands on her body.**

_I need a Kleenex. Where are my fucking Kleenex?_

_Shit. _

_Too late._

**He is lost, he is found, and she is everything.**

**He pulls out of her and she giggles as she pulls up her panties. She turns around and kisses him lightly on the lips.**

**"Wow, that was amazing! I'll see you at home tonight?" she asks casually as she slips her wedding ring back on. "Can you pick up take out on your way home if I call and order it first?"**

**"Absolutely," he says and kisses her again as he finishes buckling his belt. She strokes his face lovingly then heads off in the direction of the car park. He watches her walk away, then stop and turn abruptly.**

**"Oh, and baby?"**

**"Yes?" he calls back to her - his love, his wife, the mother of his children.**

**"Happy anniversary."**

_I think I may have a problem. I need to talk to Jasper. He can mark this, because I can't focus enough right now. Now, if I can just find those fucking Kleenex..._

I've made a mess all over my shirt, but this time I managed to keep it off the pile of homework. I can't remember reacting like this to any of the assignments from my previous classes on erotic writing. On the other hand, I haven't had someone to fantasize about before. This has turned out to be more difficult than I thought, and I feel like can't trust myself anymore. I have always seen myself as a very professional and objective teacher, but I'm nothing of the sort anymore. This could very well end in disaster for me on a professional level. On a personal level, I have higher hopes.

After my sudden, and quite frankly unexpected, orgasm, I feel I can take on Sara's assignment without the risk of soiling it again. I take a deep breath and reach for her paper. The anticipation of seeing what kink she has chosen is causing a myriad of thoughts to rush through my mind. There are plenty of scenarios I would like to imagine her in, and I hope that this story might give me some clues on what gets her juices flowing - pun very much intended.

I feel a stir deep down as I start to read, like a current of electricity slowly igniting life into my, for the time being, limp cock.

**Lust by SwedenSara**

**A change of circumstances, a craving uncovered. Your gaze - lustful; your touch - desperate. My thighs, spread and inviting, your body between them. A flash of green under soft locks of brown, long slender fingers undressing me, exploring me, exciting me. I want you to feel me, fill me, feast on me.**

_This text is... surprising. It's not prose. It's not poetry. It's... poetic prose? Prose poetry? I don't know how to classify it._

_Wait a minute... Is that me? That __**is **__me. _

_I'm between her thighs. _

_She wants me to feast on her. _

_Hell yes._

**A shift in the bed, a warm body close to me. Sweet lips on mine, hot breath on my neck. Small, gentle fingers trailing my body, a curtain of long red hair engulfing us. My eyes meet hers, my hands seek soft curves. Full breasts in my hand, slick folds awaiting my fingers. I want to touch her, taste her, tease her.**

_Is she inviting a woman to our bed? Fucking awesome! I wonder who she is. Do we have a redhead in class? I haven't really paid attention to that._

**Her tongue, circling my nipples. Your mouth, teasing my clit. My fingers, pushing inside her. Your fingers, exploring my pussy. Sensations enhanced, my skin on fire. Moaning, mumbling, incoherent, needy. I feel warm hardness poking my cheek. Rough hands join her soft and your talented ones. A fist in my hair, demanding, decisive. Dark, wavy hair and low, southern drawl. My mouth, open and eager. I want to smell, him, stroke him, suck him.**

_Wait, what? What the hell happened? _

_Is that... That's a dude. _

_That is a cock poking her cheek, and it ain't mine because I'm busy eating her pussy for fucks sake! Who is that?_

_Oh hell no! Southern drawl?_

_What the fuck is __**Jasper **__doing in her text? He needs to get the hell out of there._

**His cock in my mouth, pushing deep. Her mouth on my breast, sucking hard. My hand on her clit, massaging slowly. Your fingers in my pussy, curling and pressing. My legs around your body, pulling you closer. I want you to open me, overwhelm me, own me.**

_Take your fucking cock out of her mouth, you perverted asshole!_

**Hands and mouths, tongues and fingers. Sucking and licking, pushing and pulsating. I'm begging, barely breathing. Your cock, my craving. Your touch, my undoing. You take me, claim me, fuck me. He groans, she grinds. I gasp, you give. Pleasure is building, spreading, erupting. **

**I cry, you convulse. **

**We come.**

_What. The. Fuck._

I crumple the paper in a tight ball and throw it across the office. I glare at it from a distance. It's mocking me. No, it's even worse. Jasper with his cock in her mouth is mocking me, from that paper.

_Group sex. Of all the things she could choose, she picked group sex. And why the fuck did she have to put __**him**__ in there? The woman I can deal with, hell, I'd love that. But another man? That is never going to happen. Never._

_Because I. Don't. Share._

_And apparently, I'm going to have to let her know._


	11. The student becomes the teacher

**Aaaand... We're back! It is time for Emmett, which of course means porn, and for Netra of course, because we can't have one without the other, right? ****Thanks to FangMom for your never ending love and support, and to those of you still reading this thing. We adore you all!**

* * *

_**The student becomes the teacher. **By Netracullen_

**Emmett POV**

"Come here."

"No."

She flicks the ash from her cigarette, her other hand fiddling with the front of her hair, running through it and pushing it around as she tries to deny me.

"Come here."

"No, you're gross and I don't want to. In fact, I think I hate you. Leave me alone."

I just gaze at her, and I can almost _see_ her resolve crumbling.

"Fine," she huffs, "but no touching."

Success.

"I'll make no promises," I say with a cheeky smirk as I grab her hand and lead her around the side of the building to where I've strategically parked to give us a little privacy for this conversation. We walk to the car, me leading the way, but she doesn't force me to drop my hold around her wrist, which I take as a small victory.

When we reach the car I hold open the back door for her, which she stares at sceptically.

"I'll sit in the front, you in back," I tell her. She turns to me, surprise on her face that she quickly reins in to a more passive expression.

"Good," she says quickly, "the more space between us the better."

I climb in the front passenger seat, placing me opposite the seat she's taken and giving her the space that she says she wants. I turn myself so that I'm still facing her, the seats forming a barricade between us.

"So, what do you want to talk about that requires this level of secrecy? Are we going to do some kind of drug deal?"

Her sarcasm only thinly veils her nerves... her twitching leg does not. Without thinking, I reach out and place my hand on it to stop it moving, because it's starting to make me really nervous just looking at it.

"Stop doing that," I tell her, then realise that my hand is on her leg. I look down at my hand on her leg, then up at her face, which is still focused on my hand on her leg.

_My hand on her leg._

Slowly - much too fucking slowly - she pulls her eyes from my hand and looks at my face.

She just looks at me.

One.

Two.

Three.

_I'm losing my fucking mind here._

Four.

Five.

Then she lunges.

Her hand is wrapped around the back of my head and our lips are smashed together. Lips closed, nothing too sexual happens, but I feel like I've been fucking electrocuted.

_Babe magic... it never fails._

My hand is in her hair, holding her face to mine but I don't deepen the kiss any further, letting her take the lead. That is, until she sharply jerks back, putting about two inches of spaces between us.

_That's two inches too many for my liking._

"Shit. Shit, shit, _shit!_"

"Shut the fuck up," I say in a harsh whisper then pull her back to me, twisting my body around so that I can awkwardly maneuver around the confines of our seating position. With a frustrated groan and her arms wrapping tightly around my neck, she leans back, allowing me to pull myself over the space between my two front seats and yank myself into the backseat with her.

I don't know how the fuck I managed it, but I'm on top of her, her legs still on the floor but our torsos pressed together as we... well, as we neck like teenagers in the backseat of my car.

_Awesome._

"No, no, no," she murmurs against my mouth. "Bad idea... terrible idea."

"Awesome idea," I breathe out against her jaw then drag my teeth along it, a little rougher than I probably should. But she groans, like I thought she would.

_I had a feeling she likes it a little rough._

She nods quickly.

"Awesome idea," she echoes, then our mouths are together again and before I know it one of her legs is around my waist and my dick is about to claw it's way out of my jeans.

That is, until there is a sharp knock on my window.

"Excuse me, but this is staff parking and - Emmett?"

My head whips around to see that Doctor Jasper fucking Withbone is peering into the back window of my car.

Fuck.

I feel Netra's head drop to my shoulder, presumably to try and cover her face from view, but judging by the smirk on Withbone's face, he already knows who my backseat companion is.

_She's going to murder me._

I hold up a finger to Jasper to indicate that I'll be out in a moment, and he nods, that smug smile still painted all over his face because he's a real asshole, then turn back to Netra.

"Fuck... I should probably..."

"Yeah, you probably fucking should," she says. She shoves at my chest and as I lean back she uses her open hands to cover her face, as if Jasper doesn't already know exactly who's in here and what we've been doing.

_Silly girl._

I roll my eyes as I awkwardly maneuver myself out of the car and walk over to Withbone, who's leaning against the wall of the building and visibly shaking from his attempts to hold back his laughter.

"You are such an asshole," I call out as I walk over, a little awkwardly as I try to readjust myself while moving.

"Well, excuse me," he says with a fake tone of importance and an attempt to hold back more laughter, "for trying to ensure that staff parking lot was reserved for staff and not used as a venue for sex."

"Ok, so I'm going to itemise my response to that. One, fuck you. Two, today I'm giving my lecture, which makes me staff, so fuck you. Three, we weren't having sex, so fuck you."

He's not even trying to hold back is laughter now... in fact, he's leaning against the wall as he guffaws like the blond, southern douche-bag that he is. My head whips around when I hear my car door slam and Netra walk off, head down, sunglasses on even though it's cloudy today, iPod earphones in and a lit cigarette in hand. She doesn't even look up as she walks off to the main entrance of the building.

So much for talking.

**Netra POV**

_Motherfucker._

_I don't even..._

_Fuck my motherfucking life right in it's fucking ear._

Emmett is standing at the front of the room, setting up his laptop to present a lecture. I have to spend the entire fucking session watching him talk and move around and try to fight back my desire to climb over the desk and strangle him with my bare hand.

I sigh for what feels like the millionth time and put my head down on my folded hands on the table.

"What's wrong with you today?" Sara asks, murmuring low in my ear.

"There aren't words to contain it," I murmur ominously, and both she and Jill laugh, well used to my theatrics by this point. She pats my back reassuringly, and I just want to run out of the room.

When I finally look up, Professor Perv is standing beside Emmett, who I steadfastly refuse to look at directly, even though I can feel him trying to make eye contact.

"Alright everybody, so Emmett is going to run today's class, mainly because my experience in this field pales in comparison to his own. So please, let's maintain some decorum despite the subject matter, and I'll let him take it away."

Edward walks to the back of the room and takes a seat beside Jasper, who is the second person in the room that I will not even chance looking at.

I just want to leave.

Emmett clears his throat and steps forward, and I've never been happier that we're sitting two rows back today.

"Pornography comes in many forms."

_You have got to be fucking kidding._

"These forms range from books, magazines, postcards, photos, sculptures, drawings, paintings, animations, sound recordings, films, videos, and even interactive video games. The erotica that we spend so much time talking about in class is definitely considered to be a more high-class version of pornography, but at the end of the day, that's what it is."

_I can't believe this is happening to me._

"So people started making figurines, pictures and statues of sexy stuff as far back as prehistoric times, but porn as we know it really got going in the Victorian Era. The first erotic novel, aptly named "Fanny Hill," was written in 1748 by John Cleland and remains to this day one of the most prosecuted and heavily banned books in history. A man after my own heart, no doubt about it."

Laughter fills the room, and without having to look at him I'm sure he winked as he said that, and I just want to leave the room and never, ever return.

"Now, I personally - and I'm sure several of you - would have been more than happy to show some gems from my personal collection, but Edward says that I need to focus more on the written erotica aspect of things, mainly because I don't think he could handle himself if I pulled out some of my A-Grade material."

I look around the room and see several women's eyes glaze over, surely captivated at the idea of our studly teacher having a boner whilst in the same room as them. I sneak a glace over at Sara, who has her eyes focused on the table but a sneaky expression on her face that makes me want to drag her outside and ask her what the fuck she's thinking about, although I can probably piece it together with relative ease.

_Dirty girl._

"That said, in my professional opinion, I strongly believe that there are some things that you ladies would benefit from being exposed to, so I've created a small movie for you all to accompany my talk today."

He walks over to his computer and suddenly the screen at the front of the room is covered in the image of a man and a woman. They're kissing, still partially clothed - the man in jeans, the woman in a bra and underwear - but the image immediately transfixes me, and presumably everyone else in the room. She's on her back underneath him, his muscles moving as his looms over her and they grind together as they kiss aggressively.

The film continues as Emmett starts speaking again.

"So, there's a huge market emerging for erotica targeted at women. As I see it, sexy is sexy, regardless of your gender, but hey, if certain things float you ladies' boats then have at it, by all means."

A conspicuous throat clearing sound comes from the back of the room, and I suspect it's Edward warning Emmett to rein it in before he says something completely inappropriate.

_Not that any of us would probably mind._

"So basically, female-targeted erotica is a whole different league to the porn that's targeted at men. It's about creating a scene, a fantasy, something that a woman can involve herself in. Rather than being purely visual, as most men are, women want a different experience, and now, the industry is recognising that."

The man in the film roughly pulls down the woman's bra, attaching his mouth to her nipple and her back arches up, pushing her further into his mouth. I feel my own back move a tiny little bit in tandem with her, completely without any direction to do so.

Holy fuck.

I rub my legs together, wishing I'd worn jeans instead of this stupid skirt so I'd get a little friction.

"With this new generation of female-friendly porn, there has emerged a culture of written erotica that never really existed before. Take 'romantica', for example."

His words start fading into the periphery of my mind when the woman's bra is removed entirely and the man starts kissing down her stomach, his large hands toying with the hem of her panties.

They're cute panties, as well, a small part of me notes.

"We're not talking about the Mills and Boon bullshit that you get in the supermarket here. We're talking about well-written, well-structured narratives that feature explicit sex scenes. Essentially, the best of both worlds rolled together. More or less, what most of you would like to do."

When the woman on the screen begins to fiddle with the buckle of the man's jeans, I'm lost completely. Emmett's words fade away, nothing more than a soft drone in the background, and my entire focus is on the man's large form, hulking over the woman as his muscles flex and his lips move across her and her face looks like a combination of ecstasy and desperation and I want...

I just _want_.

When the film abruptly ends just as the jeans begin to come open, a round of gasps fill the room. Obviously, I wasn't the only person to become a little too engrossed in the material.

Emmett's booming laugh sends me crashing back into reality and my glazed over, slightly unfocused eyes snap to his. They then drift down his body, noting that his frame is similar to the man in the film, and I can't help but wonder if his muscles would move the same way over me.

I smirk, just a tiny bit, at the thought of it.

When my eyes eventually return to his face, he's looking back at me with a smirk of his own.

_Want._

I blink harshly, trying to dispel the haze, but as Emmett continues on with his talk, I'm unable to regain my focus entirely.

That's a lie.

I'm entirely focused, my mind buzzing at an alarming rate, but not on the lecture. Suddenly, everyone's clapping, and Emmett's bowing while Edward gives us our assignment for the weekend. I write something down on the notebook before me, although I'm not sure what, and then I'm out of the room.

I walk until I'm back at the car I'd run away from this morning. I drop my bag on the floor by the back wheel and lean against it, light up a smoke and wait until he walks around the side of the building, his steps faltering when he sees me there. I drop my cigarette and step on it as he takes the last few steps towards me.

He looks at me, confused as to why I'm here.

"So... I guess you want to have that talk we didn't have this morning?"

I shake my head.

He smirks.

"So what is it that you want, then?"


	12. UST Unresolved Sexual Tension

***taps the mic* Hello, anybody still there? *listens carefully and hears a few distant cheers* Ok, nice to see you again, ladies - and the gentleman over there - and happy to see there are still people reading this! We have only a few chapters left, and hope we will be able to finish this before y'all fall asleep, or grow old and die waiting for us.**

* * *

_**UST - Unresolved Sexual Tension **by SwedenSara_

Today's class, eminently taught by Emmett the Porn Maestro, probably left more than one lady - and the odd man in the room - in a state of sexual frustration. Not that it is uncommon for me to leave smut class with a sense of unsatisfied yearning somewhere below my belly button. I usually spend the majority of each class trying not to undress McSmutty in my mind, most of the time with no success at all. Watching porn with him in the same room was a wee bit too much for me, and I need something to numb my senses. Alcohol usually does the trick, and as always we've decided to meet up for drinks in the afternoon.

I walk into the bar and search for my friends. A hand waving frenetically in the corner catches my eye, and I head over there. Jill is sitting alone at a table, and I look towards the bar for Netra and Emmett – because obviously, that's where they would be. It's just that they aren't. In fact, they're nowhere at all. Well, of course they're _somewhere_, I mean, they're just not where they are supposed to be, which is here, at the bar, with us. I'm suddenly wondering if I got here too early, but as I check my watch I realize that I am, in fact, a bit late.

Netra and Emmett are both missing in action.

Unless they have taken the action someplace else, so to speak... I suspect that's a more accurate way of describing the situation. I snicker quietly as I sit down next to Jill.

"So, our two little love birds got busy after the porn lecture. Someone needed some tutoring from the guest lecturer, maybe?"

She smiles and shakes her head. "Love birds my ass, horn dogs more like it."

"Such animals… They're going full on Discovery Channel on us, don't you think?"

We both start to sing, simultaneously.

"_You and me baby ain't nothing but mammals, so let's do it like they do on the Discovery Channel."_

"Seriously, if they did get together, I'm happy for them. I mean, at least someone got some party in their pants. My pants are party-free these days. It's quite boring, really."

"Oh come on…" she says and pats my back. " It's not that bad, is it? Besides, it's not like you've been sending out invitations to your pants, now, have you? You can't expect people to pop in if they're not invited, so to speak. I'm pretty sure you don't want that to happen, either."

I put my head in my hands and tilt my head, pretending to ponder the possibilities. "Yeah well, I'll do that next class then. You think flyers are a good idea? Or should they be more exclusive, like VIP tickets to my pussy?"

Jill nods, a serious expression on her face. "Oh I think you can do both. I mean, with the flyers you can always turn them down at the entrance, claiming they're not following dress code or whatever. Which, by the way, should be latex. The dress code, I mean." She takes a sip of her white wine and purses her lips before she continues. "Now, the VIP tickets, on the other hand, they are of course valid for special treatment… they may even have their own entrance in the back…"

I snort loudly as I imagine the look on McSmutty's face when I hand him a VIP ticket to my pants – back door entrance allowed. If that doesn't get me kicked out for sexual harassment, then nothing will.

"Nah, I'll just stick with the flyers. If I'm lucky, he picks one up. The latex dress code is good, that should apply to every guest in my opinion – VIPs and average-joes alike. At least for as long as they're just guests. If they move in long term we can discuss other clothing possibilities."

She nods, and then reaches for her bag.

"Did you get good feed back on our last assignment?"

I shake my head and sigh. The last assignment… I don't know how to interpret that. When I got my paper back, it was in such a mess. It looked like he'd crumpled it together, thrown it on the floor and jumped on it. I didn't think it was that bad, but apparently it was since his comments were completely incomprehensible.

I fish my paper out of the bag and hand it to her. She furrows her brows and looks it over.

"What did you do to it?"

"I didn't do anything. _He_ did this. He must have hated it."

She quiets as she reads my little foursome story.

"I don't get it. It's not that bad."

"I didn't think so either. But I did choose an unusual writing style, which was mostly because I realized halfway through that the choreography of group sex is a hell of a lot more difficult than a regular twosome. I mean, there were limbs and dicks all over the place. I even got confused myself!"

"You think that's why he didn't like it?"

"I don't know. It's the only thing I can think of."

The door cracks open and a gust of wind brings a distinct smell of cigarette over to us as Netra comes hurrying to our table. Alone and, to be honest, with a quite lovely shade of pink on her cheeks. I'll be damned if her hair isn't a bit out of order as well.

She throws her bag at the table and hurries to the bar. She orders a beer and two shots, and downs one immediately before she heads back to us.

"So… been busy?" Jill smirks at her. Netra mumbles something and winces slightly as she sits down on the chair next to me.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I ask and lean towards her.

"That's none of your damned business, that's what!" she quips, and we can't help but laugh at her. She tries her best to look pissed off, but she has a smile building at the corner of her mouth, a sort of shine in her eyes, and a look on her face very similar to a certain cat eating a certain canary bird. Or maybe she was the bird who got eaten. You get the point.

"So what are we doing? Comparing homework?" She glances at my paper and her eyes bulge out. "Holy fuck, what did you do to it?"

"Nothing!" I exclaim. "_He _did it, and then he scribbled down some completely random comments that don't even make sense."

Netra laughs hysterically, and then chokes instantly when Emmett shows up at the table. She ends up coughing her lungs out, and he smacks her back.

"What's the matter, baby, got something down your throat?" He smirks and she kicks his leg hard.

"Shut up, dumbass, and sit down."

He takes his seat next to her and reaches for the paper.

"May I?"

"Sure. Let's all read the story that McSmutty hated so much he had to crumple it up." I sigh.

Emmett hums and nods as he reads, and when he's done he reads it again. After his third read through, a sly smile spreads on his face. He leans back and throws the paper on the table.

"Y'all are so wrong. Thank the mighty God above that He sent me to you, so I can explain to you how men think."

We lean towards him.

"So, when you wrote this, did you choose just random looks for the people involved, or did you actually describe them with certain… people… in mind?"

"Uhm, I guess I envisioned certain people, yes. It's difficult to describe someone if you don't think about their looks."

"And when you did this, it just happened to be a man with…" he pauses and searches in the text "…'a flash of green under soft locks of brown'?"

I stare at him, dumbfounded. I have no idea where he's going with this.

"Uhm… yeah?"

"So the fact that this is pretty much a description of our dear professor Sexface is purely coincidental?"

"Wait, what? No! I didn't describe him, I mean, there are hundreds of men with brown hair and green eyes. It could be anyone."

"Uh-huh. And then the dude with dark hair and a southern drawl, doesn't anybody we know come in mind?"

Jill gasps next to me.

"Nooo… you didn't… Did you put Jasper in your story – with a boner?"

"I didn't," I cry, "You have to believe me!"

"Well, it certainly seems like you did. You wrote a foursome with you and our two professors, and a, so far, unknown girl. I'd say the good professor liked what he read until you threw Jasper in there. That's when he crumpled up your paper. Oh, and the strange note he put there, about 'not sharing', that's all the proof you need."

"Wait a minute…" Netra leans over and reads the assignment again. "Who the hell is the girl? Do we even have a redhead in class?"

They turn to me expectantly, and I groan loudly. I don't believe Emmett is right about McSmutty liking what he read up until the alleged Doctor Withbone stuck his dick in my mouth. On the other hand, I'm pretty sure he actually thought I wrote about them – which I didn't – and is quite pissed off because I was so blatantly sexualizing and objectifying him like that – which, again, I didn't.

_At least not that time._

Netra snaps her fingers in front of my face.

"Hello, earth to Sara, who's the girl?"

"The girl is Rachelle Lefevre, actually. And for the record, the guys aren't who you think they are. The dark haired one, that's Jackson Rathbone. I mean, he could probably undress me with that accent alone. And the one with the soft, brown locks, well… That's Rob of course. I know he doesn't have green eyes, but I've seen it in some manips, and dear God, that looks good on him. So yeah, that was what I was imagining: group sex with Rachelle, Jackson and Rob. Okay? Now shut up."

The silence is almost deafening around the table after my confession slash explanation. Then, Emmett's booming laughter actually _is_ deafening, and Netra laughs so hard she cries. Jill just sits there, smirking smugly, which makes me a lot more uncomfortable than Emmett's and Netra's obvious expressions of joy – or malicious delight, maybe.

I need a break from all this, so I stand up and walk to the bar. I could definitely use a drink after this. I also need to think about how to explain this to Professor Hawkins. If he really thought I was writing about him and Withbone… Oh God, that's just too embarrassing to think about. I take a seat on a bar stool, and lean my forehead against the bar as I wait to be served. Someone clears his throat next to me, the bartender I assume, and I raise two fingers.

"Two large whiskeys, please. Like, really large," I say, still facedown, enjoying the cold wood against my forehead.

"Uh… okay. Two whiskeys for the lady. No wait, make that four. I'll take two as well. Big ones, please."

_Wait a minute… I recognize that voice. That's not the bartender's voice._

Indeed, it's not. It's the voice that talks about writing sex, when all I want to hear is the same voice talking about having sex. It's the McSmuttiest voice I know.

_Oh shit._

I rise my head slowly and peek at him. He clears his throat and drums his fingers against the counter a few times, then turns towards me.

"So, Sara, I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

I realize I'm still practically lying down over the bar, and try to find a bit more adult and responsible posture.

"Oh… Yeah, I mean… Okay."

_Well done, you. Way to sound like a moron._

I'm not sure where to put my hands and finally decide to sit on them. It's good actually, since one of my regular responses to nervousness is biting my cuticles, which is not preferrable. They always start to bleed and I end up leaving red stains everywhere.

"That last assignment you wrote, there is an issue with it that we need to address." He clears his throat again, and lifts his glass of whiskey. I notice his hand tremble slightly. Is it possible he's as nervous about this as I am?

"Oh. Yeah, I mean… Okay."

_Again? What the fuck is wrong with you, woman! Explain it to him! He's gotten it all wrong! _

_On the other hand… It does seem like a nice idea…_

_Fuck! Focus! Say something!_

"Well, there is a slight… credibility problem. Not the actual foursome… It's just that… I don't share. I thought you should know that."

"Oh. Yeah, I mean…"

_Shut up, shut up, shut up! Don't say that again!_

I think thoroughly about my answer as I swirl the whiskey around in my glass and take a sip. I need to find a way to make him understand without sounding like a nervous teenager, and I seek some assurance in the golden liquid that burns down my throat.

"Well, I don't see how you sharing or not has anything to do with my assignment."

"I think it does, Miss Sara."

_Oh please don't say it like that. I can't think straight._

And then he smirks. A sexy, all-knowingly smirk, and for some reason it pisses me off. It pisses me off real bad. I mean, how presumptuous can one man be? It's not like he is the only sexy, handsome, fuck-worthy guy with green eyes, brown hair and slender, skilled fingers. I want to wipe that smirk off his face so badly.

"Oh, I don't know… When I wrote that assignment I needed to visualize. So I chose Jackson Rathbone, Rachelle Lefevre and Robert Pattinson as the main character's sexual partners. I'm sorry, Sir, but I really don't see the connection to you. And to he honest, I'd fuck all of them if given the opportunity. One at a time, or all at once. Doesn't matter to me."

I grab my two whiskeys, turn around and hurry back to the table, horrified that I'd been so forward. Part of me screams at me to turn back and ask if the only thing not credible in my story is the fact that he doesn't share, and if that means him having sex with me actually _is_ credible. Because if that's the case, I should've let him believe he was in my story.

I turn my head and look at him. He's sitting at the bar stool staring at me, his mouth partly open and his ears in a very, _very_, prominent shade of red.

_Oh crap, I should have. But it's too late, now._

My friends - my very curious and blatantly staring friends - are just a few yards away when a hand grabs my elbow and yanks me backwards. The whiskey spills over my hand, making my sore cuticles sting, and I curse silently.

"Hey, get back here young lady. We're not finished."

_Daym_...

I turn around and face him, all anger and resolve suddenly flushed down the drain and replaced with a completely different, and much more enjoyable, sensation. That tends to happen when hot men address me like that, for some reason. I'm not sure if it's a good thing at this moment.

Edward drags me along to an empty table, pulls out a chair for me and nods at it. Always a gentleman.

He remains standing for a few seconds after I've sat down, which makes me feel both unsure and a little intimidated, and a bit excited at the same time. The fact that his crotch is now very much at eye level isn't eluding me. I involuntarily lean slightly towards it, it's pulling me in like a magnet and I have an internal argument with my inner whore about the impropriety of pressing one's face against crotches in bars. I win, but only barely.

Fortunately he removes his crotch from my vision and sits down opposite me. He leans towards me and beckons me closer.

"Are you saying I misinterpreted your story?"

"Well, yes. I guess I am."

"So that wasn't me, then." He looks simultaneously relieved and disappointed, although I'm not sure about the latter. Maybe it's just wishful thinking.

"No, it wasn't. I'm sorry if something I've done has lead you to believe that."

"No no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that, it's just that... Well, in my line of business, it actually happens. Sometimes women, men too by the way, use me as their... errrr... inspiration as they write."

"Oh... they do?" I try my best to look shocked - as if I haven't done the exact same thing on numerous occasions.

"Which would have been fine, by the way," he adds quickly. "You know, if you had used me like that. I'd be fine with it."

I raise my eyebrow and look at him, not quite sure how to respond. My lack of brain functionality apparently works in my favor this time. The silence seems to make him uncomfortable, and he continues explaining himself.

"I was just a bit put off when I thought Withbone was in there."

Still, no sign of any actual comprehension or trace of intelligent thoughts in my brain.

_Okay then, I'll just sit here acting temporarily mute._

He frowns. "Not that you can't imagine him, because I guess you can do that... He's a handsome man, I guess..." His legs starts to bounce fervently under the table, and the rapid movement seems to wake at least part of my braincells.

"So... what was the problem then?" I implore.

He's quiet for a bit, and I wait breathlessly. I want him to say he was jealous, that he didn't want me to think about Withbone like that, that he should be the one I imagined and no one else. Not that it would ever happen, I have quite a vivid imagination. But still...

"Well... I don't share. If you are to imagine me, it should be just the two of us. Keep Withbone out of it."

I have to wait a second or two before the rest of my braincells regain consciousness. Then I have to wait another second or two just to make my mouth form actual words.

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, I can do that."

_As if... Congratulations, McSmutty. You have just provided me with a brand new fantasy. And for your information: no, it's not just the two of us. _

My inner whore snort loudly.


End file.
